Burning Bright
by 2NYwLove
Summary: Sequel to "Strike a Match", picks up at S2 finale. After finding peace with each other, how will Cailin and Clarke deal when their world explodes in front of them? AU take, most of 51, some CPD cross. Clarke/OC
1. Like a House on Fire

**Chapter One: Like a House on Fire**

_Here we go, the start of my mostly AU sequel, starting with the season finale. I owe an endless debt to y'all for your reads and reviews and hope you enjoy this continued journey. So glad you wanted me to continue! I also owe the lovely Chicago Firestarter for letting me borrow bits of her wonderful story and her take on Linseride._

* * *

Cailin pulled herself reluctantly away from Jeff; turning back to where Matt was still kneeling in front of Gabby, as the intercom crackled to life.

"Are you kidding me?" Cailin yelped as the call came in. "Did she answer? I don't think she answered," she grumbled, "stupid fires."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at her chagrin. "Sounds like it is just a scrap fire. I am sure they will be back soon enough, trying to steal the Chief and Donna's thunder. In the meantime, more cake for us," he joked.

"Good, because otherwise I am sure Mouch would have devoured it all!" She smiled up at him, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek before they moved out of the way, knowing the intricate ballet that was about to happen. She let out a groan, "total Chief move, Boden."

"What's that, babe?" Clarke asked after plucking a piece fabric off the Squad truck.

"Boden is going with them, apparently he missed the memo on it being his wedding day," she said, shaking her head until she saw Donna. "Except she seems cool with it, so who am I to judge?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Clarke smirked, trying and failing to remove the fabric from the ladder truck before it drove away.

* * *

"It feels really weird to not drink at a wedding," Cailin remarked as they sat at a table after helping 51 take off.

Clarke gave her a smile, "maybe your family would be welcome at more places around town if-oof," he cut off as she playfully punched him. "Nice left hook, de la Hoya. Guess your shoulder is all healed, huh?"

"We shall see," she said, ignoring the twinge of pain she felt overextending it. "Still have to re-qualify and find a department to take me."

She looked so downcast that Clarke pointed over to the table where the bride was sitting with Hermann's wife, Detective Lindsay and the barely recognizable Desk Sergeant from the 2-1. "Why don't you go sit with the cool kids? I think they are passing around a bottle."

Cailin followed his finger, part of her wanting to go join in with the other women, but something stopped her. Moments with Jeff feeling somehow more precious. But, Voight did say he would be willing to give her a chance because of Erin's seal of approval…she was debating what to do when she heard the uptick in radio chatter. Her heart rate increasing before her ears even knew what was happening. It thudded even harder as she watched Connie rush over to adjust the volume.

_"Mayday emergency, mayday emergency, house 51 not reporting. Building explosion at 5929 South State Street. Request back up from all available houses. Hazmat hold for instruction, potential chemical hazard on scene."_

Clarke and Cailin's eyes met and grew wide, both of them accustomed to always, at least subconsciously, being attuned to radio chatter. Able to hear it when the civilian guests, including the bride, could not. Cailin nodded at Clarke, who already heading for the gear room, knowing his pre-Lieutenant bunker kit still sat inside. She looked over at the table of women, not knowing who had realized what was happening, catching Cindy's panicked filled eyes as she dumped out her purse, searching for her keys. She could tell the woman was trying to not outwardly emote, just like she could also tell the astute Erin had picked up that something was wrong. Cailin strode to the table, her jaw and shoulders set. "Cindy, why don't you give Trudy here the keys to your minivan," Cailin said, her voice calm, but clearly an order.

"She's barely had a sip," Donna protested, though her voice wavered as she could feel the change in the air.

"Sergeant Platt, why don't you hold on to those for a while, take the women back into the quarters," Erin suggested, gesturing with her head toward the intercom, now incessantly squawking like an injured bird. Platt caught on immediately, taking the keys from a now shaking Cindy and ushering the two women towards the multipurpose room.

Erin and Cailin looked at each other for a long beat, wondering what their roles were in this situation. Cailin felt for Erin, Kelly Severide already out on the call, in a building that had exploded. She spied Clarke out of the corner of her eye; his turnout kit clutched against his more formal clothing made for a stark contrast.

_"Affirmative, send hazmat, chemical spill at 5929 South State. Possible meth lab explosion. Requesting additional ambulances as well, 51 still not reporting. Nearest non-active engine is in route."_

The words 'meth lab' had Erin pulling out her phone, detective trumping girlfriend. "I'm calling it in," she said, her tone pure steel even as her eyes clouded with worry.

"Fine, but do it from the car, I'm taking us over," Cailin said, taking the keys Clarke handed to her in one hand as she pulled her badge from her bag with the other.

* * *

Cailin screeched up, over half a block down and across the street from where the trucks had parked; not even getting the car in park before Clarke was already hopping out. "Damn it, Jeff" she swore, shaking her head as Erin followed suit.

She carefully made her way through the debris littering the landscape, cursing her heels and sundress for impeding her movement. Erin was having the same struggle, not having made it much further ahead.

They both stopped, staring up at the building and surrounding area. It looked like a bomb had gone off, mostly because one had. A giant, toxic, homemade bomb. Cailin felt her blood turn to ice, but shook it off. Where the hell was Jeff? She caught sight of him, next to Chief Boden and the red SUV. The man bleeding from a cut on his head, covered in ash, a radio gripped so tightly in his palms they had turned pink. The relief chief standing dazedly next to him, shaking his head like he was trying to clear water from his ears.

"THOUGHT IT WAS JUST BECAUSE OF THE CONCRETE AND THEN BOOM, TOP FLOOR BLEW OUT!" the relief chief yelled, not knowing he was doing so.

Cailin charged forward, not realizing she was leaving Detective Lindsay rooted to the spot, just as Clarke was about to jog to the building. "Back-up," Boden croaked, not sounding at all like his usually formidable self. "Wait for back-up," he said, trying desperately to clear his throat.

Cailin spied a bottle of water in the front seat of the SUV, retrieving it and twisting the cap off. "Drink," she said, handing it to him, "agreed," she said, glaring at Clarke.

"Cally, I have to-" Clarke started to say, cut off by the approaching siren. Firefighters were hopping off the engine while it was still rolling, springing immediately into action, Clarke joining in with them as though he were part of their crew.

She clenched her jaw, making the sign of the cross. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erin practically get mowed down by an approaching ambulance. Cally knew shock had taken over the normally tough-as-nails detective. She traversed back through the debris field back to the car, digging through the trunk. Thankful she hadn't cleaned out her gym clothes from PT. She slipped them on, grabbing extras for Erin. "Hope you have elf feet, Detective," she said tossing the pile at the other woman.

This was enough to at least temporarily kick Erin out of reverie. "You really don't have any clothes actually in your closet, do you, Callahan?" she said, a grim smile on her face as she hastily changed.

It hadn't been more than a couple of minutes, but the scene was already flooded with the next wave of first responders and more than a few looky-loos. Both Cailin and Erin looked around, torn between their training telling them to do crowd control and their emotions wanting an update on the whereabouts of 51.

"Tell Severide to get his and Squad's ass back down here," Boden was barking into a radio, sounding authoritative enough to make both Erin and Cally smile with relief.

* * *

A most welcome sight greeted Cailin as she scanned the crowd, that of Gabby and Shay making their way over to 61, slowly, but in one piece. Her heart beating out her profession as she rushed toward her friends. "Gabby, Leslie, thank God," she said, jogging over. "You all right?"

Shay nodded, already pulling out an elastic bandage and wrapping it around Gabby's wrist. "Blast knocked us on our asses, but we're good," she said, panting slightly, looking a bit pale.

Cailin nodded, reaching for a butterfly bandage for the bleeding cut on Gabby's temple. "Your wrist okay, Gabs?"

Gabby nodded, "This one jumped on top of me. So what, I pass my firefighter test so you want to take over my spot on 61 as a paramedic, Callahan?"

"Pretty sure Clarke already called dibs on Shay," Cailin shot back, wiping off the cut and placing the bandage over it. Both women gave a chuckle, looking at Shay, who merely grimaced, continuing to pull out triage supplies.

"Matt!" Gabby said, coming to the realization her significant other had gone in the building before her.

"I don't know, Clarke went in with the crew that got here the same time we pulled up," Cailin said, looking up at the building, before realizing Gabby's eyes were glazing over.

"All right, Dawson, let's get you out of that bunker jacket, you too, Shay," Cailin said, helping Gabby out of her coat, trying to get the women more air.

Shay shook her head, grabbing at supplies, "I'm going to go check on the Chief," Shay said, grabbing a kit and heading toward the SUV.

Cailin watched as Boden tried to brush Shay off, the blonde forcing him to sit on the curb and be checked out. She watched as Erin transformed firmly back into Detective Lindsay, ordering the crowd to back up, flashing her badge and all but growling. Cailin turned her head back to the building, a hive of buzzing activity with hoses being run, ladders being raised and firefighters dashing to and fro.

It was hard to keep track of everything, until she saw familiar faces start to emerge from the wreckage: a limping Mouch, cradling his shoulder followed by Hermann and Clarke carrying a larger form, between them. "Anyone ever tell you to cut back on the carbs, Cruz?" Hermann was yelling as he and Clarke maneuvered the man to a waiting ambo, his leg clearly broken.

Cally made a face, but pulled herself together as she saw Gabby rush toward the group, yelling for Matt. "Piece of crap staircase came down as soon as the building shook," Hermann said, "Casey and Otis were already down in the basement, Truck 36 is roping them up now. We stopped for some drunk as a skunk homeless guy when it gave out. We had to pull tons of fun here from where he was dangling."

"Which is how I tweaked my shoulder," Mouch said.

"How did Cruz break his leg then?" Cailin asked as Gabby wavered with relief, Clarke reaching out to steady her.

"Homeless guy came to swinging a stickball bat," Cruz said through gritted teeth, "and I am not fat, I'm big-"

His statement cut off by another blast, two more floors of the building exploding outward, a fireball following. This set off another flurry of activity, Clarke and Hermann jumping back into action and turning back toward the building.

"Don't be too much of a cowboy in there, Jeff," Cailin warned, catching the hem of his turnout coat before he could run back into the building.

He turned, giving her a quick kiss; harkening back to the scene where he had rescued her, "not my first rodeo, babe," he said, before putting his mask and helmet on and charging toward the building.

Cailin realized Erin had made her way around the perimeter and was standing next to her. "You're just going to let him go back in there?" she asked, shaking like a leaf, looking incredibly pale.

"He has to go, Erin. How many times do we have to go into the undercover equivalent of a burning building?" Cally replied, before realizing that the woman wasn't able to focus on her; a look she had seen on her own face more than once. Detective Lindsay was in the firm grip of a panic attack.

"Clarke is going in there because he is one of the best and he is not going to leave one of his own behind. Kelly is one of his own," Cally said before gently reaching out and lightly putting a hand on the other woman's shoulders. She found herself echoing the words Jeff had used with her. "Everything is going to be fine, you just have to let yourself breathe. That's it. Nice and easy, slow breaths, stop thinking about it, it's a reflex, remember?"

Erin finally caught her breath, gulping greedily at the oxygen, wrenching herself out of Cailin's grasp. "I'm fine," she snapped, not wanting to admit to how close she had come to fainting. Cops didn't faint. She sure as hell didn't faint.

Cailin gave her a look that told her she wasn't fooled for a second, but there was also something so empathetic in the woman's blue eyes, Erin felt herself soften just the slightest bit until terror caught her in its vice-grip once again.

Catching the fear creep back up into Erin's eyes made Cally even more grateful for the arrival of Voight and Halstead, Dawson with them. "Come on," she said, trying to not drag Erin with her in the direction of the other IU detectives. She gave Halstead a look, before raising her eyebrows at Voight and jerking her head in Erin's direction. She could tell the other woman was desperately trying to keep it together, put on her usual tough face. Cally was perfectly aware of how much energy that took, how easily the façade could crumble. Like it was threatening to do with Antonio Dawson.

"Gabby's fine. She's over by 61. She and Shay are refusing to budge, they walked out on their own," Cailin explained, wondering how she was managing to hold it together before realizing she had once again managed to separate herself completely from her emotions. It would catch up to her later, but for now the silent serpent of PTSD was actually slithering in her favor for once.

* * *

Everything seemed to speed up as the newest fireball raced through the building, noxious smoke pouring out of every window, filling the street with its burning toxicity. Cailin felt her eyes burning, knowing the myriad of chemicals that went into making meth were now being unleashed into the atmosphere. It was then Hermann and another firefighter emerged, carrying out one of their own. But unlike Joe Cruz, this figure wasn't joking with his rescuers; this one was bucking uncontrollably between the two men trying to carry him to safety. It took Cailin a moment to recognize who it was, and when she did, her heart stopped.

"Crap. Matt! We need a medic over here, stat!" she bellowed. His helmet and mask were still intact, a miracle given the seizure currently overtaking his body.

She looked at Herman who just shook his head, "I don't know, 36 pulled him up like that."

The paramedics swarmed, jumping into action and shoving them out-of-the-way. Cailin looked from face to face to see if Gabby was one of them. She wasn't, but a very pale looking Shay was. "I got this," she said to Cailin, "get him on the ambo now, he has a history of head trauma. Call ahead to Lakeshore; tell them we need neuro. Cally, get Antonio to have Gabby meet us there."

Before she could even nod in compliance, Shay was already following the stretcher into the ambulance. Cailin took a halting breath, forcing herself to focus on calmly telling her friend her maybe fiancée was on his way to Lakeshore. In between wrangling Antonio and gently breaking the news to Gabby, Cally missed another familiar figure also being carried out the building until her eyes met Clarke's over another stretcher, who shook his head slightly.

"We got you, buddy, you're going to be fine and you can play me all the pod-things you want," Hermann was saying, gripping the hand of Otis. Brian, Cailin corrected in her head, injured in the line of duty, she should respect him enough to call him by his name. "Can you call Cindy and tell her to meet me at Lakeshore, I'm going with him, somebody should," he said, looking grave.

"Will do," Cailin said, pulling out her phone, though she didn't dial, looking at Clarke, who was wiping off his sweaty, smoke-covered face. "What happened, Jeff?"

"They were pulling him up when the second blast happened, knocked his mask off and they pulled him right through the fire ball. He's got at least second degree burns and took a lungful of whatever the hell is in that," he replied, gesturing to the ominous cloud hovering over them.

"What about Squad?" she asked, looking around for Erin, deep in conversation with Voight and the rest of the assembled IU.

"Trapped between floors. Apparently there were multiple labs; main one was up top, the first to blow. They can't get up to the roof without going through hell and the staircase is gone below them. They are working on getting ladders inside and up now," Clarke said.

The pair stood, looking up at the building, frozen as they saw the smoke gather and change into a monster before their eyes; knowing what was going to happen right before it did, another explosion blasting out another floor of the building. The one Squad was trapped on…


	2. Raging Inferno

**Chapter Two: Raging Inferno**

_I am so happy y'all are enjoying this sequel. A million virtual hugs and cookies for all the reviews, favorites, follows etc. And s/o's to Ms Isabella for listening to my rants and Chicago Firestarter for letting me jump on her coattails. _

* * *

Smoke, debris and flames came roaring out of the structure; reaching out to pull anyone or thing into its malicious embrace. Cailin, Clarke and anyone standing close to the building thrown back as the concussive energy radiated out of the building. Immediately all Chiefs on scene started yelling for everyone to move back and for their crews to stand down. Cally heard the buzzing in her ears, though she wasn't sure if it was from the shock wave or from an impending panic attack; her psychic armor finally falling away. It was only after Clarke hauled her to her feet, cradling her face in his hands as he kept asking if she was okay that she realized it was from the blast. Finally she nodded, pointing to her ears; unlike his, they hadn't been protected by gear.

Clarke saw the beast growing before him, seeing it draw back before its venomous strike. He had worked meth lab scenes before, knew how bad they could be and after being in the building he could confirm that this operation seemed a contradictory mix of volume and disorganization. Quantity over quality, to say the least. He was already tensing as the supersonic wall of air passed over them, knocking them both back. Smaller, lighter and unburdened by gear, Cally knocked further back. Her unmoving heap made his blood turn to ice, though she quickly started coming to. He shook himself off, simultaneously reaching down to pull her to his feet, asking if she was all right. She didn't answer right away, looking at him as though he were speaking an alien language. He worried that her recent concussion had made her vulnerable to a more severe injury. His dirty palms found her face, leaving their mark as he continued questioning her. A long moment passed before she nodded, pointing at her ears. Clarke realized she didn't have the benefit of protective gear and her eardrums had probably taken a good hit.

"Let's get you back away from here," he said, fighting the urge to wrap her up in his arms and keep her pressed against him. He knew he had to get back in that building, men still trapped inside. HIS men. But first, he had to get his girl to safety. She nodded again, still slightly dazed, shaking her head, desperately trying to stop the ringing. He guided her by her elbow, depositing her next to a vaguely familiar looking paramedic. "Can you check her ears?" he asked the woman.

"I'm fine, Jeff," she said, realizing she was probably yelling like the first relief chief had been when they first pulled up. "Really," she said, forcing herself to lower her voice. She could still hear; it was just like she was underwater. She could hear enough to pickup on the fact that every CO in the vicinity had called for his crew to stand down; and judging from the firefighters hauling ass away from the building, most were complying. Giving the noxious cloud pouring out of the building she didn't blame them, not to mention more than one of them looked like their gear was melting to them. She waved off the same paramedic that had packed her wounds after the shooting, "they need you more," she said.

The words dove straight into her heart and gut as soon as she said them, her blue eyes locking on familiar sea glass ones. Hell, she had said it to Erin not that long before. He had to go back in. For his men, trapped in the inferno raging before him. She knew despite his military training he was going to ignore the command from the COs, or maybe _because of_ his military experience; he would not leave a man behind. Honor, courage, commitment; they made up his core, his essence.

Clarke's eyes met Cally's, seeking comfort and maybe acceptance in their sky-blue depths. He could see the change in them, as her words sunk in. His heart caught in his throat for a moment; he knew he was going back in that building, he didn't want her opposition. But the clouds quickly cleared, leaving behind a beacon of light. She gave a single, resolute nod. "I love you, Cally, always," he said, pressing his lips briefly to her hers; picking up his mask as he jogged back toward the building, ignoring the protests from the COs.

"See you around, Clarke," Cailin called, fervently praying it was the truth.

* * *

It looked like a war zone. If the war had taken place on the surface of the sun behind a solar flare. Everything engulfed in flames and pitch-black at the same time. What objects Clarke could make out melted into indistinguishable lumps. The blast had brought down more than just what remained of the staircase. The need for ladders to rescue Squad nullified. Mills and Capp were struggling to stand, both looking dazed as they tried to make sense of what had just happened. Their turnout gear looked like it was peppered with gunfire, including a particularly nasty piece of metal embedded into Capp's upper arm. Mills had an actively bleeding head wound, discovering it about the same time Clarke did, the younger man's head reaching up, touching the wetness and recoiling as he saw the red. "Can you get out?" Clarke bellowed through his mask at Capp, knowing it was the only way the other man would hear him. Protocol said he should check for spinal injuries, but he was more concerned about additional explosions and the building coming down on top of them. Capp nodded, looking at the piece of metal in his arm and paling.

"Don't pull it out," Clarke screamed, shoving Capp toward the sliver of light that was the blessed outdoors. He looked back at Mills; nearly sighing with relief as he realized the other man's mask was still on as well. Luckily, the series of explosions had blown enough holes in the building that kinetic energy and diffusion had taken over, releasing much of the deadly chemicals into the outside air. He had to resort to hand signals with Mills, the man's eardrums completely perforated. Though the legacy firefighter had inherited good instincts and skill, leading him to the same actions Clarke would have instructed. They swept the area visually, trying to discern which mass might be human, coming first on an unconscious Tony, half-buried under debris. Mills reached him first, digging him out and already pulling him towards the exit, as Clarke continued trying to locate Severide or Newhouse.

The trio emerging from the building must have spurred others to defy their orders, as Clarke was suddenly joined by one lone fellow firefighter. He hadn't worked with the man, Dowling, before; but he was too grateful for another presence to worry about that. "We're still missing two," Clarke said, desperately listening for the high-pitched scream of their PASS units. Both men froze, wanting to rip off their masks and helmets to hear better, but afraid of what the heavy hanging clouds in the structure still held. Suddenly, faintly, Clarke heard it; those two ominous tones, repeating, getting louder the closer he moved toward the source. His boot hit something that gave a little, a moan following. Clarke frantically started digging, working to uncover the firefighter attached to the alarm. Thankfully, it didn't take much before a face he recognized could be seen. "You look like hell," Clarke said, crouching over Severide, resting the urge to grab him and shake him.

"About damn time, where is the rest of the calvalry?" Severide asked, trying to get up, stuffing down his panic as he realized he couldn't feel his legs.

"Us two are it, they told us to stand down," Clarke said with a smirk.

Severide grimaced, still trying to force his legs to follow the command his brain was giving them, not wanting Clarke to know what was going on. "What happened to once a Marine, huh?"

"I came back for your sorry ass, didn't I?" he said, before realizing Severide still wasn't moving and he didn't like the look on the other man's face. "Talk to me, buddy," he said, moving more debris out of the way, realizing that Severide had also been peppered with shrapnel.

"Clarke, over here," he heard Dowling yell, and then the other PASS alarm sounding. He looked down at Severide, "sit tight, I'll be right back."

"Not like I can go anywhere, Clarke," Severide called after him.

Newhouse had taken the brunt of the blast and the fall; his neck at an odd angle, his cracked mask filled with the blood hemorrhaged from his abnormally inflated chest. Clarke had seen this before; blast lung, coupled with breaking his neck in the fall. He tore off the man's mask, pressing his fingers to his neck to confirm what he already knew from looking into the vacant but still somehow panicked eyes. He shook his head at Dowling, pressing his fingers to the young man's eyelids, forcing them closed before he rushed back to his former Lieutenant's side.

* * *

Tiring of waiting, Sergeant Platt pulled up in the Hermann's minivan, Cindy and Donna rushing out. Platt the only reason the CPD didn't stop them, Voight waving them through. "Crap, Hermann," Cailin muttered, realizing she hadn't made the phone call she Hermann had asked her to make before Clarke went rushing back into…she shook it off. She had to believe that he would be fine, couldn't allow any other possibility. She rushed over to Cindy, trying to fill the terrified woman, who was badgering Boden, in. "Cindy, Christopher is fine. A little banged up but fine. He went with Brian to the hospital," she looked at the familiar paramedic, Rafferty, that was her damn name, for more info.

"Chicago Med, they took him, Cruz and the one with the mustache there. Lakeshore was dealing with a pile up involving a tour bus," Rafferty explained, "they only took the Lieutenant there because Shay made them."

"Casey," Cailin supplied, realizing how many Lieutenants had been in that day's tragedy. "And Mouch," added, running down the roster of 51 in her mind. Squad seemed the only ones unaccounted for, but that had to change, because…

"Clarke's going to get them out," Erin said, resolutely from her side, as if reading her mind. "He has to. No man left behind, right, Callahan?" she said, looking at the other woman, wondering if the blonde was as close to crumbling as she was. If it wasn't for her anger at Hank for not letting her work the case, she would have shattered by now. "Thank God he had the balls to go back in," she said, glaring at Boden and the other two relief chiefs beside him.

Boden didn't hear, so caught up in trying to reassure Donna he was fine, even as tears streamed down both their faces, the man apologizing for ruining their wedding day. Everyone's attention turned to the firefighter emerging from the building, the sun glinting off the piece of metal sticking out of his arm. Rafferty sprung to action, running toward Capp, pulling him towards an ambo. Mills followed close behind, dragging a still un-moving Tony with him; the young man's bunker jacket practically molded to his form from the intense heat of the fireball. Other firefighters surged forward, reaching around Mills to grab Tony, to get him on to a gurney. Cailin noticed one lone figure break off from the pack, rushing into the building. She let out a whoosh of air, happy Clarke had backup, even if it was from a stranger.

"He'll be fine, so will Kelly," Erin said, realizing she had unconsciously wrapped her arm around through the other woman's.

Cailin set her jaw, nodding in agreement, even if Erin's tone made it much more of a question. They leaned into each other needing each other's strength, though neither woman would have admitted it, even if interrogated. Both nearly collapsed, the only thing holding the other up as the entire building started to shake, the structural integrity irreparably compromised.

"Everybody back," the chiefs yelled again, though this time all were already heeding the warnings.

* * *

Seemingly nanoseconds before the weary building finally gave up and folded in on itself, collapsing to a ground that seemed to swallow it up, a trio materialized. Both Erin and Cailin wondered if they were hallucinating, as they saw the two men in full gear carrying a third man on the remnants of a door between them. Erin was already off and running as she realized it was her fireman splayed on the door, being transferred to a gurney. "I'm good, I'm good," he said, trying to assuage the brunette detective standing beside him looking both terrified and furious.

"How can you say that, Kelly? You just got carried out of a collapsed building on a door!"

"Can we please have this argument in the ambo?" he asked as the gurney was loaded into the waiting vehicle, not wanting her to unleash whatever was building up inside of her in front of the assembled crowd. Sure, the guys had seen plenty of scorned women dress Kelly down in front of the firehouse; but at least then he was standing on his own two feet, at least then he could feel the damn things.

One of the relief chiefs didn't offer Clarke the same courtesy, getting in his face as soon as Severide was safely on the gurney. He raged on about insubordination, chain of command and disciplinary action, but Clarke barely even registered the man's wrath. He stepped around him, smiling at the approaching figure.

"Semper fi, huh, cowboy?" Cailin said, looking up at him, both relieved and worried. "You should get checked out."

"In a minute," he said, reaching for her, wrapping his arms around her, and pressing her to him like he had wanted to before.

His lips sought hers with such force that it took her breath away. "Better?" she asked when he broke off the kiss; studying him carefully, knowing his composed exterior belied a crumbling spirit.

He shook his head, cradling her face in his palms, resting his head against hers. He needed to touch her warm, soft flesh, to feel her breath against his face. He craved the feeling of her heart pounding next to his. Desperately wanting a reminder that they were both alive, while the newest member of Squad lay buried beneath the rubble…

Cailin reached up, threading her fingers through his, bringing them down; wishing she could banish the demons creeping back into his soul. "Newhouse?" she asked, the only unaccounted member of the roster. He closed his eyes and shook his head, his nostrils flaring slightly. It was her turn to cradle him, pulling him down toward her. He immediately feel to his knees, pressing his face to her stomach. She dropped her hands down, running one through his hair, the other around him. "You're safe, Jeff, I've got you," she said, echoing his words once again.

* * *

_Thank you Guest for the comment on Calvary (though kind of an interesting double entendre given the storyline). Great to have new eyes to edit, even if they are anonymous. _


	3. When the Smoke Clears

**Chapter Three: When the Smoke Clears**

_My continued indebtedness to all of you that are reading, reviewing, following and favoriting. Writing AU is hard, so please feel free to leave me any suggestions or let me know how you think i am doing (in the stuff that I'm not borrowing from the most lovely Chicago Firestarter or Ms Isabella that is)! _

* * *

It was Boden who approached them, waving off the relief chief who had tried to tear Clarke a new one. He cleared his throat on his approach, pausing to give his former Squad member time to come to his feet and collect himself. "Lieutenant," he said, extending a hand, "thank you for your work today."

"My job, sir," Clarke replied, shaking it firmly. Cailin remained at his side, close but not touching.

Boden looked at each of them before saying, "why don't you head to the hospital, get yourself checked out? I am sure you will want to check on Lieutenant Casey, Detective?" he said, taking in the woman's flagging energy. The pair nodded, coming down off their adrenaline high; leaning on each other as they walked away.

The only things Clarke removed on the way to the hospital were his tank, helmet and mask. He left on his bunker jacket as he could feel the fabric of his non-FR shirt sticking to his skin beneath it. He tried to not wince, not wanting to worry Cailin. He could tell she had pushed things too far; on her leg all day without any assistance, knocked back by multiple blasts, and who knows what else she had done why he was running into burning buildings. She was intensely focused on the drive from South Street to the hospital; her jaw set and her brow furrowed. He knew she was worried about Casey, but he couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't something else going on underneath the surface.

Cailin focused on the traffic in front of her, wishing she were in a department issued vehicle so she could have lights and sirens all the way to the hospital. Seeing Matt being carried out, seizing uncontrollably, knowing his history with head trauma, recalling him telling her one more hit and…she shook her head, no sense in panicking until she had a reason to.

* * *

She pulled up illegally by the ambulance bay, snarling and flashing her badge at the security guard, muttering something about a rent-a-cop. Clarke couldn't help but smirk, gesturing to his turnout gear as well.

The ER was its usual scene of chaos, especially considering the tour bus accident. Cailin scanned the people in the waiting room, zeroing on Gabby, slumped against her brother. "Gabs," she said, rushing over.

"Cally," Gabby said, tearing up as soon as she saw Matt's lifelong friend.

Cailin skidded to a stop, Clarke bumping into her, steadying her and keeping a hold of her as she asked, "what, what is it?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me anything!"

She slid her eyes over to Antonio, wondering if his badge had helped. The other detective shook his head. "Screw this," Cailin said, marching up to the nurses' station. "Matthew Casey, CFD, news, now!" she demanded, knowing it wouldn't make her any friends; but considering her stunt with Arata at the train derailment, she was pretty sure she wasn't high on the BFF-list of most medical professionals in the city.

Cailin let out a sigh of relief as the nurse said, "you must be his sister. Doctor will be right with you."

Cailin nodded, croaking out a thank you until she realized. Christie, someone needed to call Christie. And that someone should be her, but she wanted to be able to talk to the doctor. Cally pulled out her phone, ducking to the exit to make a quick call. "Cam, it's me. Yes, your only sister. I need you to do me a solid. I need you to go pick up Christie. It's Matt again. No I don't know yet. Yeah, the building explosion. Just do it, Cameron; you two broke up eons ago, I thought you were still friends."

Clarke was still standing in the waiting room when she walked back in. "What's the matter, CFD doesn't get first priority around here?" she snapped.

"I'm fine, Cal. What about you, do you need an ice pack?" he asked, wishing she would sit down instead of pacing.

Gabby was still sitting practically catatonic in the waiting room chair, Antonio had his arm around her, but Cally could hear the incessant buzzing of his phone. She wondered what Voight and his team had come up with regarding the owners of the meth lab. Their eyes caught and he twitched his head toward his sister and then toward his phone. Cally nodded, sitting on the other side of Gabby so Antonio could take the call.

She searched for the right words to say, but her own fears tangled her thoughts and words. Finally she croaked out, "he will get through this." She was demanding it of the universe as much as she was saying it to her friend.

Gabby gave the briefest of nods, staring off into space with her eyes empty enough that Cailin had to wonder if Shay hadn't slipped her something. Speaking of which, where was Shay?

She spotted Rafferty, filling out paperwork as fast as she could. She patted Gabby on the shoulder. The woman didn't even flinch. "I'll be right back, I'm going to check in with Rafferty."

Cailin walked over, rapid firing questions at the paramedic. "Have you seen Shay? Did they bring Severide here too? Have you heard anything about Casey? What about the guys they brought to the Med Center?" Cally caught something in the woman's eyes. "What, what is it?"

Rafferty cleared her throat, "Severide is here, he is in neuro now. They are trying to figure out if the paralysis is permanent. That other detective is even bossier than you; she followed them up there. Shay had to be admitted as well. She was more hurt than she let on, took a piece of rebar to the abdomen, lost a good amount of blood." She studied Cailin carefully, wondering if she was going to need to flag over a gurney; but the other woman just squared her shoulders, tensed her jaw and replied, "I see."

Cailin took in the new information, feeling the dark waves of panic start to tug at her with their familiar undertow. She forced it back, forced everything back and down. She had to turn off her emotions, to distance herself from feeling anything; otherwise how could she be there for the people who needed her strong?

"Anyway, I gotta get back to the scene, there was still some green tags that needed to be checked out. You gonna be alright?" Rafferty asked.

"I'm fine," she replied as a doctor stepped out calling for the family of Matthew Casey. She strode over, ready for battle, steeling herself for the worst possible news. Searching the man's face for any sign of those dreaded words she had said countless times 'sorry for your loss'.

* * *

"Family of Matthew Casey?" the doctor said to the blonde before him, taking in her stature and badge. Cailin didn't bother to correct him, just staring at him, waiting for any news. "Mr. Casey arrived in a state of status epilepticus, which is a persistent seizure. This was due to severe intracranial pressure, probably due the blast or his fall combined with his history of head trauma." He took a breath, Cailin felt herself tense slightly, waiting for the blow. "We had to place him in a barbiturate induced coma and under cooling blankets in order to prevent apoptosis. We're hoping this will limit any further possible brain damage."

"So he is alive?" Cailin said, trying to sift through what the doctor had just told her.

"Yes, but we don't know the extent of his injuries. We would like permission to keep him under therapeutic hypothermia and anesthetics for at least the next three to five days to see if the swelling will go down on its own. We are trying to avoid another brain surgery, as it is unlikely he would survive."

She let out a long, slow breath. Not knowing if she should inform the doctor she wasn't a technical blood relative of Matt. Though she had learned she was his health care proxy after his last injury; something he bestowed upon her when he joined CFD. She was hit with the realization Doyle was still listed as hers. No she wouldn't slip down that rabbit hole either, she had to stay strong.

"Whatever you think is best," she replied carefully. "Can anyone see him?"

"Once we get him moved into ICU. Some treatment protocols have found vast improvement with patients who have someone observing and monitoring them at all times. You can discuss that with a treatment coordinator."

The doctor's pager went off, he gave Cailin another long look, wondering how much of his information had sunk in. The young woman's eyes had the glint of steel and looked far closer to some of the patients he had seen during his tenure at Walter Reed than that of a worried sibling. He finally got a short reply of "thank you, sir."

* * *

Cailin closed her eyes, internally steadying herself before walking back to where Gabby was still sitting, staring straight ahead. Clarke was beside her, perched on the edge of the chair, still in his turnout gear. His face was a blank mask, but Cally could tell he was in pain. She wondered what the extents of his heroics inside the building were. She looked around for a nurse, wishing she was at Chicago Med and could track down the woman who had helped her after the shooting, Taylor…was that her first or last name?

Finally she just stepped in the path of a nurse making her way to the snack machine. "Excuse me," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as hollow as it felt. "There is a fireman over there, from the building explosion. He hasn't been looked at yet."

"We've been really busy with trauma cases from the bus accident," the nurse said, trying to brush her off, stopping when she saw Cailin's badge and her intense focus. "I'll see what I can do," she replied, turning back toward the nurses' station.

Cailin made her way back toward Gabby and Clarke, trying to ignore the physical pain coursing through her body. She had been able to halt her emotions, but her body was betraying her.

She had to crouch down in front of Gabby to finally get the woman's attention, her leg threatening to give out on her any second. "They had to put him in a coma, but he's alive. Once they move him to ICU, you can see him." She kept her information sparse; knowing from personal experience Gabby would not be able to process anything more than that.

Gabby just nodded. Cailin looked up at Clarke, a flicker of concern darting across her face before she settled it back into its blank visage. Clarke patted the chair next to him, brushing her hair back with a still soot-covered hand. He knew Gabby was in complete shock and that Cally was trying her damnedest to shut down her emotions in order to continue on. He also could tell she was terrified and in pain. There was nothing he wouldn't give to turn the clock back to earlier in the day when he was fastening that pendant around her neck, and to stop time there; to let himself get lost in her instead of this day from hell.

She carefully pulled herself to standing, every nerve ending a tiny knife stabbing her. She didn't sit, seeing the nurse she flagged down earlier coming toward them.

"Sir, I understand you were at the building explosion?" Clarke nodded. "We need to check you out for chemical exposure. If you could come this way." He nodded again, standing, giving Cally a squeeze and what he hoped was a reassuring look; though judging from the further paling of her skin, it didn't work.

"I'll be fine, Cally. Love you," he said, giving her a quick kiss.

"At least he's conscious," came Gabby's voice from below her, somehow empty and venomous at the same time.

Cailin would have been taken aback, but she knew exactly what the other woman was feeling, or trying not to feel. "Matt is in good hands. We have to be hopeful." Her eyes were drawn to the exit, her brother accompanying Matt's sister. The woman was teary eyed and wringing her hands, rushing up to Cailin for information. Cailin moved them out of the way, not wanting to stress Gabby further.

"What do you mean coma? On purpose?" Christie looked at her completely perplexed.

"It's actually pretty normal with severe head trauma. They are trying to avoid another major surgery. Think of it as him hibernating while he re-boots. We'll make sure someone is with him around the clock." Cailin sounded far more assured and in control than she felt. "In the meantime, why don't you go sit down?"

Cam stared down his sister before helping Christie over to a chair, concerned over the armor she had resurrected. He had heard stories from Cullen, about how Cally was more of a shell than a person and he worried she was slipping away once again. Hopefully her fireman was okay. Why the hell couldn't she date an accountant or some other boring, safe, professional? "Cal-" he started.

"I'm fine, Cam. Just get Christie over there by Gabby before she falls out. I'm going to get a coffee and see what I can find out about the rest of 51."

* * *

Cailin was returning with her cup of coffee when she stopped short, the paper cup falling to the floor as she saw the nurse attempting to extract pieces of fabric from the second-degree burns marring Clarke's back. No wonder he hadn't taken his bunker coat off yet.

It shouldn't have surprised her, nearly every firefighter that had emerged from the inferno looked like they were life-sized shrinky dinks. But seeing the red, angry blisters marring a back she had admired, stroked and loved...an orderly and nurse appeared at her side. The former with a mop and scowl, the latter with a look of concern and trying to move her away.

"Miss, please," she said, gripping Cailin's elbow.

"Let go," she growled in reply, her tone one of fierce protectiveness.

Clarke's head turned, recognizing not only the voice, but also the tone. "Cally, I'm fine," he said, craning his neck to try to look through the gap in the curtain, the nurse admonishing him even as she waved Cailin in.

"That is not fine, Jeff!" she argued, entering the curtained off area and facing him down. "This is what you get for running into a burning building without FR on, cowboy!" She wanted the nickname to soften her words, but her intonation belied her. Her voice cracking as she inched ever nearer her breaking point.

"I need to get the dressings on. He will need help with changing them and cleaning the wounds for the next couple of weeks and the doctor will probably prescribe him a round of antibiotics and maybe some pain meds. We're still waiting on his tox and gas screens, but his lung sounds are good. So he is telling you the truth, detective, he will be fine. Thanks for getting him seen, though."

Clarke gave Cally a look silently calling her out before turning the tables on her. "What about you, babe, how's the leg and shoulder? I'm guessing you didn't tell the nurse about getting shot in the thigh and shoulder a month ago."

"How are you walking around unaided?" the nurse asked as she spread ointment over Clarke's back.

"She has a cane, she's still supposed to be using it."

"Thanks, narc," Cailin grumbled, "it didn't really scream 'wedding attire' and I wasn't aware it was going to turn into..." she trailed off, overwhelmed.

The nurse looked from one to the other. She saw plenty of crap in a day, but a cop and a fireman? She wouldn't want to hear their dinner conversations. She finished taping down the dressing, saying, "how about I give you two a couple of minutes and go see if I can find a pair of scrubs lying around?"

She slipped out, leaving the couple staring at each other. "I really am fine, Cal," Clarke said, his voice low, his eyes full of concern.

As had been the case since she met him, Cailin felt her walls crumbling as she got lost in his eyes. Her armor pierced once again. "It feels awful to say it, Jeff, but for the first time I am so glad you aren't at 51 anymore. That could have been- she broke off, terror and grief etched clearly on her face.

Clarke reached out to her, ignoring the scorching sensation of his back. Physically connecting with her far more important than his pain. His hands encircled her wrists, pulling her up to the side of the bed. "But it wasn't, Cally. I'm here, I'm safe and I am not going anywhere on you." He meant it, vowing it to her with his entire being. He realized that even though he would keep running in while others were running out until the day the CFD made him retire, he wasn't willing to make her go through the pain of losing someone she loved again.

Something cemented as she echoed his thoughts with her next statement, her eyes full of such anguish it broke his heart as she said, "I can't lose you, you gotta be in this for the long haul."

"You ain't getting rid of me, Callahan, promise," he replied, pulling her down to him, his lips meeting hers.


	4. And The Dust Settles

**Chapter Four: And the Dust Settles**

_A bit long, but needed for updates. I can't even express how amazing y'all have been. AU takes so much more to write, but you've made it worth my while and then some. It might not be the most, but 1100 views in 10 days is something to me! _

* * *

Cailin pulled away as Clarke let out a small grunt of pain when her arm involuntarily snaked around his back. "Crap, sorry," she said, jerking back as though she had touched a hot burner.

"I'll live," he said, trying to force a smile.

She just looked at him, blinking, worried. Finally she said, "I should go check on Matt. And Kelly. And Leslie," she tacked on, her tone getting more despondent with each syllable.

"Shay?" Clarke said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Apparently she got hurt in the first blast when she tried to protect Gabby. But like somebody else," Cailin glared at him, "she kept her turnout kit on and kept going. Took it in the gut with a piece of rebar." She paused before asking, "you planning on telling me why Raffety was going on about ruling out permanent paralysis with Kelly?"

He hadn't wanted to burden her with anything else, though he should have known she would sniff out information on anybody from 51 in a nanosecond. "He was buried under debris, had to rely on his PASS to find him. I didn't know anything was wrong at first, at least not until he didn't jump up blowing me off and telling me he was all good." Clarke gave a slight shrug, the most he could manage under his dressings, "it looked like a blast zone, they were all peppered with shrapnel…" he trailed off, his eyes losing focus.

Cailin knew he was either going back to the building or to one of his deployments; regardless, he wasn't all with her. "Jeff," she said quietly, reaching out and gently running the back of her hand down his forearm, hoping he wasn't in the grips of a flashback and about to strike out at her.

"What?" he asked, blinking, as if just waking up, continuing,"Severide will rally, he's too much of a hotshot not to. Not to mention his detective seems as pushy as someone else I know." Clarke gave her a hollow smile, knowing he had been slipping down that deep well; could practically feel the grit of the sand as it blasted his face, could smell the metallic tang in the air as spent casings rained down. Not to mention Newhouse's face kept floating before his eyes, that cracked mask full of blood, the eyes wide with panic.

"Hey, didn't you just tell me you weren't going anywhere on me?" Cailin remarked, keeping her tone light, sitting gently on the gurney next to him. "You want to tell me what you keep seeing?"

Clarke stiffened slightly, shocked at her offer to listen. Not that he should have been, he knew she had been through a lot of the same hell even without leaving American soil. It was just so different to be approached gently, without accusation or anger. She wasn't going to tell him to snap out of it or that he was being ridiculous. She genuinely wanted to know what was haunting him, to help him banish those ghosts. "Newhouse, that damn kid."

Cailin nodded, not wanting to push, but wanting to let him vent. Sometimes talking it out made it better, but sometimes it didn't. "How bad was it?" she asked finally.

Clarke took a large intake of air. "He was already gone. Broke his neck in the fall, must have been close to the point of origin as well."

"Oh, Jeff," Cailin breathed out, placing her hand on his thigh, needing to maintain connection with him; but not wanting to hurt him and not knowing what to say. "It's all so awful," she stated finally.

"Not all, babe," he said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to his side.

He didn't let go even as the nurse came back in, dropping a pair of sweatpants and a scrub shirt on his lap. "Best I could do. Detective Callahan, I believe you can see Lieutenant Casey now if you would like. I can make sure this one finds his way there after we get the paperwork done."

Cailin looked at Clarke, torn between who she should be with. "Go," he said, "I'll be right behind you, making sure you get an icepack on you soon," he added, teasingly.

* * *

If you could look past the machines and tubes and could ignore the beeping and whooshing, it really did look like Matt was in a deep, dreamless slumber. Cailin wondered if that was the case, she hoped so. Christie was sitting as his bedside, clutching his hand in both of hers while Gabby stood next to her in the hallway, staring through the glass.

"This can't be happening again," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I can't say this is how I thought today would go," Cailin replied, absently moving the key pendent along the chain around her neck.

The movement caught Gabby's eye, her friend didn't normally wear much jewelry, especially around her neck; always trying to hide her scar. She recalled seeing the new addition as she complimented Cailin on her sundress, but was distracted by something. It hit her. Some one. Matt had pulled her aside, wanting to talk. And then…and then…her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to get in oxygen. Trying to cover she asked, "did you know Matt was going to propose today?"

Cailin made a small noise, close to a snort. "Nope. Probably wouldn't have suggested someone else's wedding as an ideal spot. Did you say yes?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I didn't get a chance to answer," Gabby replied somberly.

"Go in, I'm sure Christie won't mind," Cailin suggested.

Gabby shook her head, "I just can't, not yet."

She nodded, catching sight of their reflection in the glass, realizing how dirty and battered they both were. Gabby's head wound cleaned and re-bandaged, but her face was still covered in soot and grime. She had taken off her bunker gear, but her paramedic uniform rumpled and reeking of smoke.

Cailin wasn't faring much better, she attempted to work a knot out of her neck, giving up as her fingers met granite. Relaxing wasn't in the cards anytime soon. "Do you mind if I?" she asked Gabby, gesturing towards the bed.

"Please, go, maybe it will help me work up the courage," Gabby said, hugging herself.

Cailin rubbed her on the back, "Gabs, I am pretty sure you have more courage in your pinkie than I could ever hope to have." She gave her friend a smile before stepping into the glass cube, carefully shutting the door behind her. "I don't know why I am trying to be quiet," she said with a hollow laugh to Christie.

"I am pretty sure the two of you don't know how to be quiet together," Christie retorted with a wan smile of her own. "Sit, please," she said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the bed.

"How are you holding up?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Cally? All this after getting shot, what, a month ago?"

Cailin gave a half-shrug, "you know us Callahans, we are a hearty stock. I'm stronger than I look." She looked down at Matt in the bed, wishing she could read whatever brain waves he was generating. "So is he," she said, trying to sound believable.

"I can't handle losing him, Cal. He's my baby brother and I couldn't protect him when-" Christie broke off, her emotions overwhelming her. She let go of her brother's hand, burying her face into her palms, sobbing, her shoulder shaking.

Cailin sat there, letting the woman be as alone as she could with her grief. The Casey siblings had a tough time of it growing up to say the least. Christie escaped as soon as she could, graduating high school early and then heading off to Northwestern.

Christie raised her head out of her palms, reaching for Matt's hand again. "He will be fine, he has to be," she said resolutely, her gazing going out the window to the hallway. "Has he asked her yet?"

Cailin knew Christie meant had he proposed to Gabby yet, but she didn't feel it was her place to reveal the events of earlier that day. "I made him promise me to tell me before he did," she said, a technical truth, just one he hadn't abided to.

"She's put him back together before, hopefully she can do it again," Christie said resolutely.

"She is a good PIC," Cailin said with a smirk.

Christie shook her head, "not just that. When Hallie broke off their engagement, he was crushed, and angry." Cailin chewed her lip, she and Matt had played plenty of phone tag during that time, but she had been so focused on building a case against Nansenko; she hadn't been there for him as much as she should have been. "And then after Hallie…" Christie trailed off before picking back up, "all he has ever wanted was the 2.5 and a picket fence. Me too, but I got mine, he needs to get his."

"He will, Chrissy, he will," Cailin said, reaching over to squeeze Matt's other hand, wincing as her shoulder screamed in pain.

Christie saw her wincing and said, "you must be exhausted. Why don't you go home and take a shower, get some sleep. I'll be fine here and Jim is coming later, his mother is coming to watch the kids."

"The doctor said something about around the clock observation," Cailin protested.

"Which is already being coordinated. Cally, you have always been there for Matty, but there is no sense in all of us sitting by his bedside. I'll call you if anything changes. Besides, there is a pretty hot guy out there who seems really concerned about you. I take it that is your Marine?"

Cailin looked over her good shoulder, catching Clarke's eyes through the glass. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look. She turned back to face Christie, "yeah, that's Jeff."

"Well I wouldn't keep him waiting long if I were you, or some nurse might try to steal him away," she said, with the faintest glimmer of a smile.

"I want to see them try," Cailin shot back, before moving around the bed to give Christie a hug. She reached out and squeezed Matt's foot admonishing him, "I always told you your head was going to swell too big one day, Matty, this isn't what I meant. Get the hell better soon, would you?"

* * *

Cailin exited the room, her gaze briefly meeting Clarke's over Gabby's head before giving her friend what she hoped as a reassuring smile. "It's not as bad as you think. Just pretend he tried to drink me under the table again and he is sleeping one off. I'm going to go check on Kelly and Leslie and then catch a shower with the hopes of washing some of this day off."

Gabby looked at her with wide, frightened eyes, as if suddenly realizing that all of 51 had been in the building. "Kelly got hurt? Leslie must be freaking out. What about everyone else?" Clarke and Cailin exchanged a look. Gabby caught it and crossed her arms over her chest. "What is it, you two?"

Clarke cleared his throat, "Listen, Dawson, I know you are dealing with this, but the scene was bad. Real bad. Severide is being evaluated for a spinal injury and Shay got hurt worse than we knew in the first explosion. They are both upstairs. Everyone else is at Chicago Med."

"Everyone?" she asked, not needing to expound for the pair to get her meaning.

Cally didn't turn her head, just shifted her weight so her arm and side were pressing against Clarke's, just trying to be a presence as he shook his head and said, "Newhouse didn't make it."

"Damn," Gabby said, tears forming in her eyes. She refused to let them fall, wiping them away with the back of her hand and saying, "I need to get in there, I have to be strong for both of us."

"If you need anything, Gabs, really, anything," Cailin said, giving her friend a quick hug.

* * *

They made their way upstairs to the neurology ward where Severide had been moved to. Cally smirked as she learned Shay was in the room next door. "Odds on Shay getting them a shared room before the day is out?"

"Maybe not the day," Clarke replied with a small smile as they exited the elevator. He kept his palm pressed against the small of her back as they entered Severide's room, refusing to break their connection.

The fireman looked much better than the last time they had seen him, cleaned and color back in his face. Except he was lying in bed and looking intensely frustrated.

"Hey, how you feel-" Cally started, cutting herself off.

Severide smiled, "nice catch. Still not, but neuro is hopeful. Whatever the hell that means."

Clarke nodded, taking in a long breath. "Is it from the blast?" he asked, knowing that could change the prognosis.

"The fall, waiting to see if the swelling goes down on its own." Severide gave the smallest of shrugs, "at least it meant it didn't hurt when they were digging all the damn shrapnel out of me." He wished the pair would quit looking at him with such grave expressions. He looked at Clarke for a long beat, his eyes clouding in such a way they all knew what he was about to ask before he did.

Cailin couldn't listen to it again, not if she wanted to keep grounded. "I'm going to go check on Erin, I'm sure she is pacing a hole in the floor out there. Get back up on those legs soon, would you?" she said, giving him a smile as she exited.

* * *

"Did we get everyone out?" Severide asked Clarke, his gut already telling him the answer even as his former Squad man's jaw tensed and nostrils flared.

Clarke shook his head, his voice hoarse as he answered, "Newhouse."

Severide's jaw clenched as well, the weight of a fellow fallen firefighter sitting heavy in the room between them, He tried to lighten the mood with gallows humor, quipping, "I really can't keep that position filled, can I?" It lay heavy as well, though they both laughed bitterly. His eyes turned serious as he settled his on Clarke. "The rest?" he asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.

"They all got out. They had to put Casey in a medically induced coma. Tony also took a pretty good hit to the head. I don't really know though, they brought everyone else to Chicago Med."

The silence filled the room as each man mourned and worried silently, forcing themselves to stay strong and stoic; not wanting to show weakness to each other, or their incredibly strong and stubborn girls.

Severide pierced the silence first. "Look, I know you are Lieutenant big man up at boring ass Roger's Park, but do you think you could see about filling in down at Squad until I am back on my feet?"

"I'd be honored," Clarke honestly replied, knowing the weight of what the other man had asked him. "But-" he started, though Severide cut him off, knowing where he was going.

"Don't get comfortable, Clarke, I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

Cailin approached Erin who was, as she suspected, pacing; though she was also having a terse conversation with someone. Cally bet it was Voight. Erin stabbed at her phone angrily, looking like she wanted to pitch it across the room. "Investigation not going well?"

"More like can't find anybody attached to the operation that wasn't in the building. They are still working on identifying the bodies, but so far..." Erin trailed off. "I am just not sure they suffered enough, Cally," the brunette detective said quietly.

Cailin just nodded. "I know what you mean." She shook off the memories, "let me know if there is anything I can do. In the meantime, I'm going to check in on Shay," she said, pointing at the room next door.

"Quit hovering in the doorway like I am on my deathbed and get in here, girl!"

Cailin stepped in, taking in her friend's pallor, saying, "you did not have to play the hero, sweets."

Shay gave her something between a grimace and a smile, "what and let the guys get all the glory? Please!"

Cailin smiled back before asking, "what happened? How are you doing?"

"Fell on some rebar trying to cover Dawson's sweet ass and punctured my colon. So I get to crap in a bag for the next week, but I guess that makes it easier to binge watch Orange is the New Black, huh?" Cally couldn't help but laugh, Shay joining in until she clutched her abdomen in pain. "Okay, nothing funny yet. How is Matt doing?"

"They put him in a MIC and under cooling blankets, they are trying to avoid another brain surgery. Gabby still seems in shock..." she trailed off before saying, "I like how you managed to get next to Kelly on the neurology floor."

"I figured between me and Detective Hairporn badgering him from a close distance, he would be back on his feet in no time." Cailin forced herself to not smile or laugh.

Shay's focus suddenly went over Cally's shoulder. "Oh no, not you too. Get in here, you big lug. I am fine, tons of sand left," she said, motioning for Clarke to enter. She looked carefully at the pair, "now no offense, but you both look," she paused, raising her eyebrows, "and smell horrible. And seeing as you both can walk out of here and eat solid food, I'm kicking you out. Go, shower, sleep, and eat the messiest Italian beef for me, since I can't."

The pair looked at each other and back to Shay before Cally before taking Clarke's offered arm and they both used each other as a crutch, in more ways than one.


	5. This is What Remains

**Chapter Five: This is What Remains**

_This update comes courtesy of Ms Isabella, because if she can start a new story for me while studying for her boards, I can give you an already written update before starting my new job. Go read and review** "I Have Something to Tell You" **if you have a second._

_A continued thank you for those of you continuing to follow me on this little adventure. A little time jump here, because I was depressing myself. Props to Ms Iz and Chicago Firestarter as per usual for letting me ride their coattails (with permission, of course). _

* * *

Cailin was sitting on the sofa at Clarke's going through the stack of mail she had picked up after stopping by to visit Matt in the rehab facility. The past couple of months had been difficult, to say the least; but everyone was healing, a day at a time.

Luckily neither Matt or Kelly had to have additional surgeries, the swelling on their respective injuries going down on their own, though it took longer on both than the doctors had hoped. Matt was dealing with residual memory effects and the doctors were trying to figure out why he kept having mini-seizures. Gabby had been by his side as much as she could be when not on 61 and complaining about her relief partners while Shay was still on medical leave.

Hermann was also back to work, filling in as the Lieutenant on Truck 81, even though a shaken Cindy had started pestering him to take a job down at HQ; which is what Mouch had done when his shoulder injury ended up being more extensive than originally thought. Cruz's leg was still on the mend, but he was doing quite well. That may have had something to do with him reconnecting with a pretty nurse from his past while in the hospital, the pair having picked up their former high school romance like not a day had gone by.

Mills and Capp were also both back on Squad with Clarke acting as their Lieutenant as he promised Severide; but were running their truck short after Newhouse's death and Tony being DQ'd from station work with permanent hearing loss from the blast. He had found a good fit teaching at the academy, where yelling was encouraged.

Otis was still trying to find his new spot in the world, his lungs far too compromised to pass the physical. He had dabbled in IT work for the CFD and seemed to be enjoying it, being part of the team just as important to him as being a full-fledged firefighter. His spirits remained high, bolstered further by the return of Katie Severide, who was more than willing to return to Chicago to help take care of her brother and Brian.

Not that Erin and Shay didn't have Severide's care well-managed, even though he was facing serious PT time after being paralyzed for over two months. Erin had even taken some time off, her relationship with the Squad Lieutenant firmly cemented by the after effects of that horrible day.

Detective Lindsay's fierce loyalty had actually been helpful for Cailin. With Erin out, Voight had allowed her to stay up in IU, assisting on cases however much she could from a desk while still stuck on modified duty. She had slowly gained Voight's trust, probably because of what occurred after Jin turned up dead and Stillwell seemed intent on pinning it on Voight. Stillwell had, naturally, tried to approach her to spy on IU. He had hoped her weakened emotional and physical state would make her an easy pawn, but she had quickly told him where to go and how to get there. She had made an enemy in IAD, but she would have rather quit CPD and become a private detective than rat on her new team.

Which is exactly what she had told them when she tried to turn in her badge to Voight, figuring Stillwell would have her canned. The Sergeant pushed it right back toward her, told her to simmer the hell down and get back to trying to figure out who had killed Jin. She and the team had pieced together enough information, after Cally had gotten Otis to help her to crack Jin's computer, to track down the Asian gang Jin's father had been in deep with. Jin had paid off his father's gambling debts with his life.

Things were finally starting to return to normal, or the new normal, even if there still seemed to be setbacks and adjustments just about every day. Cailin was eternally grateful for Jeff's support and companionship. The pair had been practically inseparable since the shooting, further cemented since the day Shay kicked them out of her hospital room. Cailin had barely been back to Gabby's, hence the huge stack of mail she was sorting through, including the ominous letter that she had found stuffed under the door addressed to all occupants of the building.

* * *

"Crap," she said, scanning the letter and realizing it very much applied to her.

"Crap, what?" Clarke asked from the floor where he was doing sit-ups after returning from a jog.

"Nothing for you to worry about. Go back to your sit-ups, show off," she said, rubbing at her temples.

He pulled himself to sitting, resting his arms on his knees and giving her a look. "Spill, Callahan," he ordered.

Cailin let out a sigh. "Gabby's landlord is selling the building and the buyers are turning it back into a single family home."

"And?" he asked, wondering why she sounded so forlorn about this news.

"It means I have to move," she said, sounding stressed.

"Figured that out when you said single family home." She stared down at him. "It's just a place, babe. A place you still call Dawson's even though you've lived there for how many months?" She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, "you haven't even unpacked your boxes and there are only five of them. You treat it like a crash pad."

She just shrugged, everything he was saying was the truth, she wasn't sure why the idea of moving bothered her so much. She was puzzling through this when Clarke nonchalantly said, "just move in with me."

Even as Clarke said the words, he regretted them. Not because he didn't want Cally to move in, she had been there for the past couple of months as it was, but because he saw the way she looked around, biting at her lip. He could practically read her thoughts as she took that trip down memory lane.

This was how she had moved in with Doyle, no pomp and circumstance, just a matter of convenience. It didn't matter that those two weren't even together yet, still just partners doing each other a solid. Clarke didn't want it to be like that, wanting their relationship to be different; to be of their own creation, uniquely theirs. Which is when the other thing hit him as he saw her looking around. Taking in his ex-wife's decor, a style that matched neither of them but he hadn't bothered to expend the energy to change. It was entirely unfair to ask her to move in here.

He stood, moving to sit next to her on the sofa, gently squeezing her knee. "We can get our own place, Cal. How hard can it be? Shay and Severide do that all the time."

She snorted, appreciative that he seemed to get what she was thinking without having to say anything. "True," she answered, continuing, "but it's your condo, you own it."

"So I can sell it, Cal, it's fine; and then we can get OUR own new place, together." She pursed her lips, torn between being giddy at the concept and not wanting to move in just because of convenience. It didn't feel like that, though, nothing about their relationship seemed about simple utility. "Just think about it, okay?" he asked, looking at her seriously before a small smirk played on his face, "though I might have to point out that suitcase you left in the hallway a couple of weeks ago."

"Gotta bust my chops, huh, cowboy?" she said, laughing as he pulled her toward him.

"You give as good as you get, babe," he said, before his lips met hers.

* * *

"Just leave, okay, I don't need you here babying me all the time!"

"I'm not babying you, Matt! I am your fiancée and I care about you, I am trying to help you get better."

Cailin drew a breath, thinking about backing down the hallway and pretending she hadn't stopped by before heading over to the precinct. But Gabby came storming out after Matt kept yelling at her, wiping angrily at her tears.

"Good luck, maybe he'll damn well listen to you or decide if he wants to be Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde today," she said, her jaw clenched in anger. "I gotta go. I don't wannabe late for Shay's first shift back."

"Gabs, wait," Cailin said, calling after her. Gabby paused, turning around, her arms crossed over her chest. "I know you've been through this with him once before, but it will get better, you know that, right?"

She let out a long, slow breath before saying, "I don't know, Cal. I love him, I really do, but sometimes I think part of Matt never woke up from that coma." Tears formed in her eyes again, causing her to turn and continuing striding out.

Cailin let out a sigh before knocking on the door left open to Matt's room. "You can yell at me to leave all you want, but I'm not going to listen," she said, entering the room and setting down the book of word puzzles and games she had brought him.

"So you heard that, huh?" he asked, looking sheepish.

"Pretty sure they heard you up in Evanston. Why are you being a dick to the gorgeous woman who loves you and has already been through this once with you, Matthew?" Cailin asked, glaring at him, though her look softened when she saw the expression on his face.

"Remember that time Andy Darden was teasing me for throwing like a girl and you came up and punched him in the nose and it started bleeding everywhere and he responded by kissing you?" he said suddenly.

Cailin nodded, laughing, "how could I forget, third grade, my first kiss and I thought Sister Catherine was about to have a heart attack."

Matt nodded as well, a wistful smile on his face, "I was wearing mismatched socks, because my mother had been too drunk to do laundry again." He let out a sigh, "I can remember mismatched socks from nearly twenty-five years ago but I can't remember what I had for dinner last night."

She chewed on her lip, wanting to placate him but not wanting to sound fake. "Matt, you've been through this before, you know it is going to take time."

"I am tired of everyone saying that. It has been over two months and they still can't figure out why I am still having seizures and all I know is I feel like I am losing my mind right before one of them comes on and I can't do anything to stop it and it feels like I am drowning or stuck in quicksand and everything just goes black and I don't want Gabby or anyone to see me so weak!"

"Those are called panic attacks, and nobody is going to think you are weak for having them. I still have them, Jeff still has them, and I am pretty sure everyone that was in that building that day has them. The last thing you need to do is push Gabby away when you've only now gotten a yes out of her," Cailin implored. She noticed the slight color come into her friend's cheeks. "Wait, she didn't call of the engagement, did she?"

Matt gave her a shy smile, "no, we actually set a date. That is what she was coming by to tell me, when her family's church and whatever were free."

"Holy crap, little Matty Casey is actually tying the knot? Though you might not be if you keep being a jerk. Cut yourself some slack, Matt, but don't expect that I'm going to keep cutting you some." Cailin gave her first friend a hug; happy for him while hoping he was able to keep the beasts at bay enough to not mess things up. She knew first hand how hard it was to come back from zombie land and she had done so without two major traumatic brain injuries. She made a mental note to gently nudge Jeff into stopping by for a man to man, knowing he often worried about honing in on her friendship with Matt despite her telling him otherwise.

"Fine. I guess I should apologize to Gabby." He took in the look Cally was giving him, adding, "and maybe send her some flowers or something?" He let out a sigh of relief with her briefest of nods. "Okay, so I haven't forgotten everything. But I'm not cutting myself too much slack, Shay's already beating me back to work."

"And Kelly should be back next week," Cailin said with a shrug.

"Kelly, huh?" Matt teased.

"What? Erin and I may have bonded over the past couple of months," Cailin huffed.

"You calling Boden Wallace now too?"

"I can barely picture Donna calling him Wallace," she shot back with a laugh that Matt returned. "So when is the big day so I can make sure I am free," she said, relieved the tension was gone from the room.

"Next June," Matt said, catching the look Cailin gave him, "the 20th. We know, but it was when both the church and her cousin the caterer were available."

Cailin grinned at him, "ah, logistics. Hope you are looking forward to another ten months of planning insanity."

Her words softened hug she gave him, which he returned, looking at her seriously before saying, "what about you, Cally?"

"What about me?" she asked, wondering why he looked so grave.

"You and Clarke set a date yet?" he asked, looking at her with serious eyes.

Cailin's brow furrowed, "how hard did you hit your head, Matty? Jeff and I are not getting married. We've both already been there and done that. We're fine as we are; though we are looking for our own place…" she trailed off, wondering if Matt's memory problems were worse than he had let on when he started laughing.

"I was just teasing, Cal. And maybe checking. Gabby and I decided you two are more likely to just show up at Molly's one night and announce you were married…" he paused, "since that seems to be your thing."

Cailin rolled her eyes and swatted at him, "you are so hilarious, Matty." She looked at the clock and gave him another hug, "gotta go, can't handle ticking Voight off before I am even fully out in the field."

"See you, Cal, and thanks," he said, giving her a small salute.

"What are friends for, right?" she said, glancing over her shoulder on the way out.


	6. Back to the Flames

**Chapter Six: Back to the Flames**

_Time shifting back and forth here, all within the recovery two+ month time period. Hope y'all are still hanging in as I adjust to my new job! Thanks to all the well wishes, I've almost survived my first week and this is your gift, hope you enjoy. ;)_

* * *

Cailin wouldn't admit it to anyone, definitely not anyone up in IU, but she was bored to the point of breaking. Sitting at a desk all day, with the occasional visit to some scumbag in interrogation, not even being allowed down to the cage…she was intensely jealous of not only her co-workers, but everyone getting back to work at 51. Which now included Kelly Severide, something that caused more than a little anxiety to rise in Cally's chest. This meant Erin was back at work full-time, not worrying about her firefighter nonstop and perhaps making whatever Voight thought Cailin brought to the team redundant; not to mention it meant Jeff returning to truck 25 up in Roger's Park.

They both knew the day would come, and it was actually a good thing. However, that didn't stop Cailin from being weighed down by a sense of anxiety and dread. In her mind, she should have returned to full duty already; it didn't matter to her that the doctors decided to go back in and dig out the bullet, worried about how the blast had moved it nearer her femoral nerve and artery. She had been so close to getting clearance, had ignored the pain for nearly a month until Clarke finally called her on it and practically dragged her into the surgeon's office.

* * *

_Clarke had known something was off for the past couple of weeks, at first he attributed things to the after-effects of the blast. Both of them plagued by nightmares and the other residual symptoms of PTSD rearing its ugly head; but they were working through it, together. Except something kept nagging him, Cailin withdrawing a bit more and more at the end of each day, her energy and appetite waning; her formerly untouched bottle of pain pills finding their way to the back of his medicine cabinet. She flinched if he touched her right leg, refused to go up the stairs first and fiercely massaged it when she thought nobody was watching. He'd been willing to give her a little leeway, figuring in her attempt to get back in the field some medical professional would say something, but finally he had enough._

_"Stop fighting me, Callahan. Call that damn surgeon of yours, now!" he said, his tone both demanding and concerned._

_"Why would I do that, Jeff?" she asked, hopefully innocently before turning back to the skillet on the stove, turning the chicken she was making for Clarke to bring to 51 next shift._

_He felt the anger rise in his gullet, knowing she was feigning innocence, hating she was trying to cover anything with him, especially pain. "Cailin," he said, his voice now a low growl in his chest._

_Cally sighed, turning off the burner, his tone having none of its usual toe-curling effect; she knew he was calling her out. Something confirmed when she turned from the stove and saw the anger flashing in his eyes, turning them to glinting steel. "It's not that bad, really," she pleaded._

_Clarke shook his head, pulling out a chair. "Sit," he ordered, his tone and eyes softening as he said, "and please don't lie to me, babe." She opened her mouth, but he waved her off. "I know you and you are in pain. I don't need you sneaking pain pills or limping up the stairs or begging off going to Molly's to tell me that." Her expression was morose enough that he was desperate to lighten the mood. He leaned over her with a smirk and said, "the dead give away is you aren't really a lie there and take it kind of girl, babe, it's one of the things I love about you." He landed a searing kiss on her lips, one she did immediately respond to until she tried to stand and he moved slightly back, the resulting weight shift on her leg proving his point. "Call, now," he said, handing her the phone._

The phone call resulted in a consult the next morning and being squeezed in for surgery that afternoon. Cailin didn't even spend the night in the hospital but it did result with her needing more PT and the brief return to a cane. Now it was creeping toward Labor Day and she was chomping at the bit to feel fully useful again.

* * *

"You working or looking up Barbie's dream house, Callahan?" came a sarcastic voice behind her.

Cailin jumped, she was looking up real estate listings, though she and Jeff hadn't really done much beyond her moving her five boxes in the day after he suggested it and painting the condo.

"Starting to feel like I should be looking up glue factories," she said, clicking off the webpage, "happy to work if you have something I am cleared to do, sir."

"You ain't a damn lame mare, and we've talked about the sir thing," Voight said, shaking his head. He hated her looking at him with those damn big baby blues like someone had kicked her puppy. He much preferred feisty, fighting to keep it under control, Detective Callahan.

Though both had their uses, and he was hoping to exploit that. "I gotta couple of kids trying to act like big shot 'bangers who saw more than they should have but Dawson and Halstead almost made them crap themselves and now they've clammed up. I need their info now, nice it out of them, would you?"

It didn't take her long; a couple of cans of soda and some candy bars, alongside sweet talking them and reassuring they weren't about to filmed for Scared Straight and soon enough they were pouring out their entire life histories.

If she hadn't heard it all before it would have been heartbreaking. Though she also heard enough to know that if anyone out on the streets knew what all these two had just given up, they would be dead before they made it back home. Which is how she ended up in a screaming match with Voight over his reluctance to put them under police protection.

"Jesus, no wonder Belden complained about you being a pain in the ass!" Voight roared when she didn't budge from in front of his desk, arms crossed over her chest.

"Come off it, Voight, it isn't like you haven't hustled other kids out-of-town and we won't even go into the pet projects of your past," she shot back, giving him a look.

Over the past couple of months, the friendship between Erin and Cailin had blossomed, both using each other as confidantes; a sisterhood formed in their male dominated workplace, especially as they both settled into their respective serious relationships. At first Cally felt like she was cheating on Gabby and Shay; but Gabby was so focused on Matt, she didn't want to do anything outside of him or work and Shay had been working on her own recovery in addition to spending plenty of time with Clarke, the pair bonding over fishing, of all things. Erin and Cailin were both taken aback by how honest they were with each other, talking freely about their pasts, professional struggles and commitment fears. So she knew plenty about Voight taking in the wayward younger Erin. "I'm just asking we hold them here for a bit until we can see what social services or their families can do to get them out of Vice Lords territory."

Voight worked his jaw, not liking her insinuation but admiring her gumption, it looked more like an IU detective. He was concerned over how much information she had gotten out of Lindsay, further proving his distaste for females being partnered. "Fine, you want to babysit, babysit; but let me remind you how much you've bitched about being stuck doing so in the past and I'm not calling in any favors for those two knuckleheads. You gotta figure it out yourself, smarty pants."

"Fine," she said, knowing it was the most she was going to get out of him.

* * *

She exited, taking note of everyone forcing themselves to look like they hadn't been eavesdropping. "Oh just stop it, all of you. I've been up here for a couple of months practically chained to the desk, and every single one of you has gone more than one round with him. If you think I am going to KO so easily-"

"I actually got an idea," Atwater spoke up, causing all the attention to turn his way.

"Of course you do," Ruzek muttered under his breath, still adjusting to not being the new hotshot in IU.

"I'm open to anything," Cally said, glaring at Ruzek before moving to sit next to Atwater's desk, "whatcha got?"

Atwater shrugged, looking slightly abashed, "so most of the people I grew up with, they didn't want to get out, but I did. Or I did once I did this thing after I got picked up trying to steal a pair of Air Jordan's. It's like this wilderness thing to teach independence and responsibility and stuff."

"Are you telling me you were an Outward Bound kid, Atwater?" Cailin said, giving him a knowing smile.

"If that's what you want to call it," he said, taking in her smile, "anyway, I still got my instructors number, he's one of the directors now if you want it."

"I would kiss you if it wouldn't make the rest of these mugs jealous," she replied with a wink, "give me that number stat."

A couple of hours later she had the two wannabes ready to be shipped off to the Minnesota wilds for the next month and was trying to not smirk too much at Voight's sour look at her quick solve.

Erin stirred the pot further, flashing her dimples at her mentor with a "stop looking like someone pissed in your corn flakes, Hank. You got your info and two kids are getting a second chance, thought you liked when that happened," before flitting off to dinner with Kelly.

* * *

Cailin was on her way home when a text from Jeff made her alter her route, stopping at Molly's instead. She broke into a broad smile, seeing him sitting at the bar sipping on a pint, but stopped short as she spied a familiar figure slumped next to him deep into a bottle of wine. Her eyes caught Jeff's over the brunette's head, but he just gave the slightest shake of his head and went back to drinking his beer. She looked at Hermann behind the bar, but he avoided eye-contact, pretending to try to find something on the television.

"Gabs, what's going on?" she asked, sitting next to her friend and pouring her own glass of wine. "Did something happen with Matt?"

Gabby shook her head, taking a long drink of wine before saying, "no, he's okay, well the new okay."

Cailin waited patiently, she had been with Antonio all day, so she was guessing it didn't have anything to do with the Dawson family; she hadn't heard anything from Erin about Kelly or Shay and anybody else one of the guys would have filled her in on.

"It's this," she said, finally, pulling a letter from her pocket, unfolding it and dropping it on the bar.

Cailin spied the familiar letterhead from HQ. "May I?" she asked, gesturing towards it. Gabby nodded.

Cailin picked up the letter, wondering if Gabby had somehow been DQ'd since the blast. She scanned the letter, information jumping out at her. 'Must accept position as candidate or repeat…Austin slot filled…'

She set it back down and looked at Gabby sincerely. Her friend had less than a week to find another house to join as a candidate or she would have to go to the back of the line and start all over again. To make matters more complicated, her spot at Austin had been filled. She wasn't shocked the jerks over at Austin had gotten someone else in, certainly male, but she was ticked they hadn't at least called Gabby to give her a heads up. She realized both Hermann and Clarke were staring at the two women, wanting to know what was going on.

Gabby shook her head, hiding in her glass of wine, gesturing toward Cally. "She has to start as a candidate or it's back of the queue and Austin gave her spot away. HQ needs to know where she's going by Monday."

"What about 51, Casey is still out, right?" Hermann suggested.

Clarke gave the other Lieutenant a look, "band-aid fix, Hermann, besides Boden wouldn't go for it."

Gabby's expression went from hopeful to dour as she turned from man to man and then finally gave Cally a look.

But Cailin had to agree with her guy and not just because he was her guy; it would be a very temporary fix and one that probably wouldn't fly.

She was about to attempt to placate her friend when Clarke spoke up again. "Apparently two shifts were more than enough for the candidate on my truck, he wasn't really about scrubbing toilets and showers."

"And they don't even see as much action as the ones at 51," Cailin muttered, causing Gabby to sputter wine across the bar.

Clarke gently squeezed her thigh under the bar while Hermann glared at the now laughing women as he mopped up the bar. "My point is, I got a candidate spot that could use filling, but no special treatment, Dawson."

Gabby's face lit up, a smile spreading across it, "really, up in Roger's Park?" She practically bounced off her seat, almost launching herself at Clarke to give him a hug until she saw him tense. She skidded to a stop, forcing her expression to one of seriousness. "That would be excellent, Lieutenant, sir," she said with a salute.

"You don't need to go that far, Dawson," Clarke teased, raising his pint toward her and hitched his thumb toward Cally, "despite this one's beliefs, I am not a drill sergeant."

Gabby settled on hugging Cally, kissing her on the cheek and saying, "I'm going to head home and tell Matt the good news!"

"Let me call you a cab first, Dawson," Hermann replied, pointing at the empty wine bottles.

* * *

"Did you know what that was all about?" Cailin asked after the cab picked Gabby up and they sat finishing their drinks and she caught him up on her day.

Clarke shook his head. "Nope. Hermann called me looking for you or Shay when Dawson came in like that and started drinking straight from the bottle. She wouldn't say a word to either of us."

Cailin hooked her leg around his, moving her bar stool closer. "Thanks for doing her a solid."

"She'll make a great candidate. I gotta be fair, though," he said, giving her a look. He knew she sometimes felt stuck in the middle of Gabby and Matt's relationship, and he didn't want her to get caught up in anything if he was going to be Gabby's CO.

Cailin knew what he meant, but she also knew that while Gabby might occasionally bitch about being a candidate, the woman wanted this bad enough and their friendship was strong enough to withstand it. She gave him a grin, "wouldn't want you any other way, cowboy. Now can we go get some food? I'm starving."

"Good thing I was already cooking dinner when Hermann called then, huh?" he replied, giving her a little grin.

"You might just be a keeper, Jeff Clarke," she replied, leaning in and kissing him.

"Ah, geez, would you two take that out of here? I don't want you scaring away the regulars," Hermann teased from behind the bar.

The pair mock glared at him saying, "we are your regulars," before happily complying and heading home.


	7. Burning Edges

**Chapter Seven: Burning Edges**

* * *

"This summer can suck it," Cailin remarked, sitting at the bar at Molly's one with Erin and Antonio, the only IU members she could convince to join her for more than a drink, after a particularly grueling week.

Jay was on the fence until he heard Erin chatting up her damn firebug, making plans to meet him at the bar later and decided to call that girl he met last week instead. Alvin was still trying to work his way back into the house from the garage and had a family dinner planned. Adam was vague about his plans but both Erin and Cailin guessed they had something to do with the preening Kim Burgess they saw in the locker room on their way out. Atwater, Cally still couldn't call him Kevin, had come for a quick drink, but got a better offer and had left a few minutes before.

"Agreed," Erin and Antonio echoed, raising their glasses to hers.

"Thankfully it is over," Erin added, though the Labor Day weekend had been long and bloody and they had worked non-stop after the homicide rate crept near all time highs.

And that was just trying to keep the Mayor happy, to say nothing of the Russian mobster they were trying to pin down who was trafficking in girls and the joint task force they were 'working' with the FBI. Which basically meant they were tasked with all the grunt work on digging up intel on some Eastern European syndicate that was skimming credit card info at bars and restaurants in the toniest areas of the city and using the proceeds to capture their own corner of the Vice market.

"Hey why don't you practice for your new gig and mix us up another round, Callahan," Antonio teased, shaking his empty glass.

Cailin was about to go undercover as a bartender in one of the target bars responsible for the majority of the skimming, thought to be the head honcho's den.

"Off the clock, 'Tonio, flag your sister down," she said, gesturing to Gabby at the other end of the bar where she was chatting with Joe and his new-old girlfriend, the very same Taylor that Cailin had thrown up on upon coming to in the hospital after she was shot.

That had been an awkward re-introduction the first time Cruz brought her in; but the woman seemed intelligent and funny and Joe Cruz was looking more and more like a teddy bear each passing moment he spent with her.

"Cally doesn't need any practice, trust me," Erin said, tossing her head back in laughter thinking about their last girls' night. Shay, Gabby and Katie Severide had joined the pair of detectives to compete with the boys' night that had left them all single for the evening. Cailin decided to work her way through a couple of chapters of the Joy of Cocktails and they all ended up three sheets to the wind and laughing uncontrollably while playing 'can you top this' with their worst dates ever.

"Girl, put those dimples away before you get every guy in here sniffing around us," Cally teased as Antonio moved down to get his sister's attention.

"We have badges, guns and hot firefighter boyfriends, I think we'll be okay," she quipped, but gave an ice-cold stare to the pair of bros who had started to make their way over as soon as Antonio vacated his stool.

"Speaking of which," she added as the door to Molly's opened and the trio of Lieutenants walked in, having gone to shoot pool and the breeze to celebrate Casey's return to, albeit modified, duty.

"Great, now I'll never get a refill," Antonio remarked as his sister also zeroed in on the newest arrivals.

He was happy for his little sister, jumping in with both feet up in Roger's Park, engaged to a good man, putting their mother over the moon with wedding planning; but still, he felt something in his gut. She hadn't seemed the same since the building collapse.

He wanted the best for her, didn't want her and Matt to end up sleeping in separate bedrooms, not talking to each other, separated but under the same roof. Which was Laura's big compromise since school started back up for Eva and Diego, though she was planning on going up to Crystal Lake every weekend.

* * *

The change that came over all three guys as soon as they caught sight of their girls was immediate, and each caught the same look in the other's eyes.

Severide gave a small snort, "Jesus! You, I'm not shocked at all," he said, lightly punching Casey's arm, "little more surprised at you, jarhead," he continued, shaking his head, "but damn if I didn't have to get whipped right alongside you."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Clarke remarked with a slight smirk while Casey smiled and said, "always gotta be a one-upper, don't you, Severide?"

The trio laughed, patting each other on the back and moving toward their respective mates; happy to have had time to catch up with each other, but just as happy to be calling it a fairly early night.

Clarke could tell Casey's energy was still not back, not to mention his mood had been mercurial throughout the evening. He and Severide had exchanged a few looks over the other Lieutenant's head.

While they knew Casey was frustrated at not being back on the truck, it was for the best, given his reactions at the pool hall over their table being scooped when they went to the bar or when he lost his third game in a row. At least riding with Boden allowed him time to heal and still be back at 51, not to mention Clarke knew how important it was to not lie around feeling useless.

It didn't take long for Erin and Kelly to disappear from Molly's, barely even taking time to say goodbye, almost running over Shay as she was coming in with an unfamiliar woman.

"Someone must be back to fighting weight," Cailin said under her breath, Clarke snickering beside her. "You get the scoop on this one on any of your fishing trips?" she teased.

"The point of fishing is not talking, babe," he said, shaking his head with a smile.

Though to be honest, when he mentioned he was going fishing one night at Molly's (since Voight was quickly making habit of calling Cailin in on his days off) and Shay asked to come along, he almost fell off his bar stool.

Apparently Shay had grown up going fishing with her father, and had missed it since the old man stopped talking to her when she came out. Clarke was more than happy to bring her along and it become a habit, the pair even making plans to try to get a group up his cabin, assuming they could coordinate their various crazy schedules.

He enjoyed his friendship with Shay, and was glad to see her bringing someone in to Molly's, having admitted she was a little lonely a couple days prior. It also helped Clarke to feel like he was still a part of 51, something he had bee struggling with up at the 102. That house having a completely different way of functioning and interacting.

"I thought the point of fishing was day drinking," she shot back as she waved the pair over.

* * *

"Hey, guys," Shay said, coming up, her arm loosely entwined around the other woman's. "Guys, this is Ana. Ana, this is Jeff and Cailin, though you'll mostly hear them called Clarke and Cally, just like they won't call me Leslie." She smirked, it growing into a smile, a certain lightness about her.

Ana stuck out her hand, offering up a firm shake saying, "nice to meet you both. So what do you call Leslie?" she asked, looking slightly puzzled.

"Shay," the pair said in unison, leaving Shay rolling her eyes.

"You two might be spending too much time together," she teased before turning to Ana and explaining, "He's firefighter, she's a detective. We do the last name thing even off the clock. A lot. Besides it feels weird calling him Jeff…" she trailed off making a face, "what are we drinking?" she asked gesturing.

They told her, and Shay turned to flag Gabby down before realizing her friend had come out from behind the bar and seemed to be having an intense conversation with her fiancée.

Ana seemed oblivious, looking down at her phone, but Clarke and Cally followed Shay's line of sight and both tensed. "Guess I'll serve myself, ownership has its privileges," she said, ducking under the bar.

"How was he tonight?" Cailin asked, not knowing if she wanted the answer.

Clarke shrugged, "up and down. You know how it is, fine one second, raging the next."

"I know it is normal, but I wish he would talk to someone, he is so freaking stubborn!"

Clarke laughed, giving her a look. "Really, babe?" he teased.

"Yes, I know I am stubborn, but I knew when I needed a lifeline and even you, big bad Marine, knew when you were in over your head. I know Gabby's trying, but she's got a lot of other stuff on her plate and I'm not sure she gets it, entirely."

She pursed her lips and shook her head, looking up at him with wide and serious eyes. "I don't think I tell you enough how lucky I am to have you."

He shook his head, leaning down rub his thumb over her cheek before kissing her, "luck has nothing to do with it, Cally."

* * *

Cailin caught sight of Antonio looking dejected as they broke apart, a pang of worry for her fellow detective. She knew he had tried to make things work with Laura, but there was so much resentment and anger. She had hoped they would have been able to smooth things out, both her and Erin trying to give womanly advice.

Which probably would have worked better if either of them had a clue what is was like to be a civilian wife. Sure they both worried about their men getting banged up every damn shift, but they also knew it was practically part of their DNA. And, for the most part, their guys understood when the women had to stand them up last second or left their warm beds for another man named Voight. It was a tough juggle, but understanding went a long way. Cailin hoped that understanding wasn't going away anytime soon.

"You're okay with me doing this UC gig, right?" she asked, after accepting her drink from Shay and waiting as the pair of women moved over to a table.

"You're mixing a few drinks and keeping a few drunks in line while gathering intel. You'll probably be safer there than you are out on the streets, Cal," he said, trying to reassure her. Part of him had been a little worried when she came home and said Voight was sending her in UC. He knew she hadn't really done much work like that since New York, the one exception being the time she ended up trapped in that bathroom and he had to rescue her. But it was just tending bar and getting people to talk to her, which they were prone to do as long as she remembered to smile.

"I know, but basically it means I am working two jobs and with you back up on 25…" she trailed off.

He gave her a sly grin, "you trying to say you are going to miss me, Callahan?"

She flushed slightly, part of her hating to admit it, "maybe," she mumbled, taking a long swig of her drink.

"I think I'm going to head out, maybe see if I can spend time with my kids," Antonio said, coming up behind them, still looking crestfallen.

"Nobody can say you aren't trying, 'Tonio," Cally said, squeezing his arm.

He just nodded, jerking his head in the direction of his sister and Matt, who were now sitting in separate areas, both seething. "Can you two figure out what is going on there? She won't 'burden me' with anything," he said.

"On it," Cally said, "see you at work."

"You want your candidate or your fellow Lieutenant?" she asked Clarke.

Clarke weighed his options, not liking either of them, but Shay was canoodling with the new girl and he didn't want to ruin her good time. He knew how down she had been, since Daryl really; it was nice seeing her happy. "I'll take Dawson, I've already had Casey about take my head off once tonight."


	8. Rake Over the Ashes

**Chapter Eight: Rake Over the Ashes**

_A/N: I was remiss in mentioning that I borrowed some elements (with permission) from Ms Is and Chicago Firestarter in the last chapter. So thanks for letting me play with Jaylor and the Russians, y'all! To everyone else, hope you aren't getting bored! _

* * *

Cailin could practically see the anger rolling off Matt, his jaw tense and working. It was enough that she said, "come on, Matty, we're taking a walk."

Matt's head snapped up as he all but growled, before grabbing his jacket and following her out; knowing better than to argue when she had that look in her eye.

She wanted to yell at him, to rage at him for being a jerk to her friend, for not calling her or Jeff when he felt the darkness come crushing in, for not calling any of the head shrinkers she recommended. Cally felt she was well within her rights to do so, he was her best friend…except he wasn't anymore. She had moved away, had severed ties; they had both grown up. While they would always be first friends, Jeff was now her best friend; followed closely by, for the first time in her life, the girls.

She also knew that screaming her head off at him wouldn't change anything, lord knows it hadn't with her. You just turned on the numbness, slept walked your way through the unpleasantness and most likely didn't remember it when it was over.

These realizations washed over her as she stormed out of the side door of Molly's stomping down the street. She halted, taking a deep, slow breath.

"Go ahead and get it over with, Cally," Matt said as he caught up to her, "I know you want to scream at me."

She felt her shoulders droop, "it wouldn't do any good, Matt, so what's the point?"

"Really?" he asked, looking incredulous.

"Really," she nodded, with a long sigh. "I know it isn't easy. Scratch that, I know part of it isn't easy, but I haven't had two major head traumas in less than a year, so I have no clue what that part is like. But the not feeling in control, jumping at every sound, switching from full adrenaline to zombie in a second…I know all that in spades, Matty, and I hate that you hurt that much. I also hate that we've grown apart enough that you haven't felt like you could talk to me about it." She wanted to reach out to him, but held back, seeing his tension.

Matt looked down at Cally, his emotions fighting a battle within him. He had expected her to fly off the handle at him, wouldn't have been the first time and he knew he deserved it; frankly he was amazed Severide and Clarke had lasted as long tonight with him as they had. He had wanted to call her, more than once, yet he didn't. Just like he hadn't when he heard she was back in town over a year ago. She was right, they had grown apart since she had moved away, yet being back around her made it seem like not a day had passed since their high school graduation. Even given all the drama in his life at that time, it had been so much simpler and easy back then.

Clarke had tried to talk to him on more than one occasion as well, but he was always quick to shut the other man down, not wanting to admit how weak or out of control he felt and definitely not wanting to tell this all to the guy who had taken up residence in his friend's life. Even though Cally had spent most of their childhood protecting him, from bullies, from his parents, from himself, he still found himself wanting to play the protector to her. If he hadn't just been promoted to Lieutenant, he would have been on the next flight to New York the second she called to tell him she had gotten married or at the very least when he found out she was in the hospital.

Except Hallie had always been intensely jealous of his friendship with Cally, even if she had been gone for years. Hallie hated that both he and Christie still kept up with the Callahan family, not understanding how much of a refuge that family had been to them growing up. He had worried about how Gabby would react, and she had been hesitant at first; but after a couple of girls' nights, the pair had bonded. Which probably left his oldest friend feeling stuck in the middle while trying to deal with her own healing after who knows how many old wounds reopened the day that building…he felt the anger rising in him, the heat rolling over him like flames, his vision blurring, going black like it was filling with smoke, the world shifting, the floor dropping…

He looked down at his knuckles as if they weren't even attached to his arm, wondering why they were throbbing and bloody. He looked over at Cally, fear replacing the anger, he hadn't lashed out at her, had he? She looked at him, eyes wide, not quite scared, but definitely concerned and slightly sad.

"That wall had it coming," she said with a slight smirk and a wry grin, "but I think it won," she said, gesturing to his hand.

He worked it, relieved that nothing seemed broken, feeling awash with shame for the thousandth time that night.

Cailin watched the flush climb in his cheeks, knowing he was embarrassed. "How about I go get you some ice and then we can talk about you finally calling one of those recs I gave you?" He just nodded, unable to make eye contact.

She made her way back in, Clarke looking up at her as she passed by. She gave the smallest shake of her head, glad Gabby's back was turned to her as she went to ask Shay for some ice, her date having been cut short.

"Those two, I swear. I thought engaged couples were supposed to be all freaking roses and rainbows," she said, giving Cally the requested ice and bar towel. "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not," she said, grateful for the shot her friend also poured for her, "you're a gem, Leslie Shay. Too bad Ana didn't stick around to find that out," se remarked, noticing the woman had disappeared.

"Ah, she was a little young and dumb, anyway," Shay replied, trying to brush off her disappointment. While she wouldn't have traded places with Gabby for anything, she was more than a little jealous over the detective/firemen pairings that had taken her lesbros away. Luckily, she loved both Erin and Cally. She just hoped things worked out for both couples, otherwise it could get messy.

"You deserve better, sweets," Cally replied, "catch up soon, after I take care of 'Hulk Angry'?"

"I'll hold you to it, Callahan!"

* * *

Clarke caught sight of Cally coming back in, alone, making a beeline for the bar. He caught her eyes, not liking the concern in them, his own worry growing as she shook her head at him and requested ice and a towel from Shay. Luckily, Gabby was oblivious to all of this, continuing on with pouring out how up and down things had been with Matt and her own struggles since the building explosion.

Gabby was slightly apprehensive about telling her Lieutenant about everything she had dealt with since that awful day; her own nightmares, how she pretty much checked out every time they went out on a call, unable to focus on anything except the task at hand, her emotions completely numb. Or how it took a little longer each time she came back from a call out to start to feel again, despite supposedly being a blushing bride-to-be. Her mother was ecstatic, constantly badgering her bridal magazines and color schemes and a million endless questions. But she could do little more than paste a fake smile on her face and pretend to be over the moon.

Clarke was genuinely concerned about her, especially since she was his candidate. He had tried to get to know everyone up in Roger's Park, but that house wasn't the same as 51, everyone more just wanting to get the job done, get in and out and not really bonding.

Gabby was grateful for his concern, even if things felt so different from how they had at 51. The guys up in Roger's Park wanted to keep things very surface level. At least they weren't treating her any different for being female, though she wondered how much of that had to do with Brandon Jones making it clear he was all in support of female firefighters as long as they could 'handle it'.

Which is why Gabby hadn't reached out for any professional help, not wanting to be labeled a hysterical female who couldn't cut it. The job wasn't the problem, the job was where she actually felt competent, it was her personal life that felt like it was crumbling. She had urged Matt to call one of the therapists Cally, Clarke or his doctors had suggested, but he looked at her with such rage in his eyes, she hadn't brought it up again. She wasn't scared he would hurt her, not really, but she was still worried about who he might end up flying off the handle with.

"It just feels like everything is different and I don't know which end is up anymore, Clarke!" Gabby implored, shredding the napkin she had wrung between her hands.

Clarke couldn't help but smile, "that's because it is all different, Dawson. You were living a completely different life three months ago, we all were."

"I know, and I am not trying to act like I got the short end of the stick. I am still working with CFD, as a firefighter, I'm still alive. I feel like a brat for complaining," she said, thinking of Otis, still searching for full-time IT work with the city or Mouch, still dropping by 51 nearly every shift to complain about how much working a desk sucked, or Tony, even though apparently he was a favorite at the academy. She grew sullen, thinking of Newhouse, his close-knit family beyond devastated at his death;also thinking about Rebecca Jones, knowing she had to succeed as much to honor the other woman's memory, as for herself.

"You ain't complaining, Dawson, you're stating a fact. World isn't the same place, and I'm not sure any of us know which way is up anymore."

He was being honest, he knew first hand from both Mills and Hermann that they were struggling. They all knew the dangers of their job, had seen people lost to the flames, but something about that day had shaken them all to the core. Maybe because it was just supposed to be a simple scrap fire and they all had almost been thrown straight into hell. Or maybe it was because there had been so much change as a result of that day; things just now really starting to get back to a semblance of, tenuous, normalcy. He had also tried to talk to Casey at Cally's urging, but the other man had been less than receptive. He wasn't willing to push, knowing he would have better luck talking a tiger into changing its stripes to spots.

Dawson looked lost and forlorn enough that he decided to change tactics. "Is it just me, or does everyone up at Roger's Park act like they got a stick up their butt?"

Gabby jumped, slightly surprised. She had felt like people were walking on eggshells, but she had assumed it was just because there wasn't any women in the house; even the 'medics were all guys. That was until Chout showed up on a relief shift one day and started calling her 'Chuck'. When she finally yelled at him about it, he informed her that's what everyone else was calling anyone from 51, the full name being 'Bad Luck Chuck'. She suddenly averted her gaze.

"Don't tell me it's just me, Dawson. Or is it just me? I thought I was doing pretty well as a Loo." Maybe he wasn't channeling as much of some of his favorite CO's as much he thought he was.

Gabby looked up at him through her eyelashes, moving from destroying the napkin to twisting a coaster. "It's not you, it's us. They think we are bad luck, it's why Chout kept calling us Chuck."

"I thought he was just an idiot," Clarke said, shaking his head.

* * *

"So what was the ice for?" Clarke asked Cally as they lay in bed later that night.

"Let's just say Brick Wall-1 Matt's knuckles-0," she replied with a grumble. "What about Gabby?" she inquired, not lifting her head from his chest, needing the reassuring cadence of his heartbeat, the familiar rise and fall of his breath.

"She struggling," he replied, not wanting to betray the trust of his candidate, but knowing that Cally would get probably more information than even he had gotten the next time the pair shared a bottle of wine together. He wrapped his arm around her, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, needing to the weight of her soft curves nestled against him. "We all are," he said, after a long, slow breath, "but, one day at a time, right?"

Cailin shifted, settling her body on top of his, placing her palms gently against his face, leaning so their foreheads were touching. "Just remember, I've got you, cowboy," she said, before landing a series of kisses over his face, as they both let the rest of the world fall away.


	9. Blue Flame

**Chapter Nine: Blue Flame**

_A/N: Love to my supporters, as always; special props to L for previewing and letting me borrow some pesky Russians! The next few chapters are Cailin undercover, so more cross with CPD. As always, let me know what you think! _

* * *

Cailin took the scraps of fabric the manager gave her with a look of distaste on her face. Despite having done recon on the bar, Olinsky and Ruzek had failed to tell her about the 'uniform'. It seemed like a classy enough place from the outside, so she was more than a little taken aback when she was handed the two bits of black fabric that looked like they had come straight out of a Las Vegas lounge. Voight wasn't hazing her was he? No wonder Erin had opted for the Russian Black Widow gig.

"Look, wear it or leave; plenty of other girls looking for jobs in the city, Caitlin" Zuzanna, the manager informed her, using her UC name.

"Says the woman getting to wear pants," Cally grumbled as she headed towards the employee bathroom to change. She changed, sending an angry text off to her team, wherever they were. It was too early in the intel for them to bother with outside surveillance, not to mention they were still down a tech person, hence why Cailin was there and going old school. _Thanks a lot for the heads up on the uniform, guys. -C_

She stepped out of the bathroom only to be greeted by Zuzanna looking her up and down, a slight frown on her face.

The older woman reached, practically sexually assaulting Cally after tightening her corset to put 'the girls' more on display. "Better tips, I promise," she said, her breath reeking of booze and cigarette smoke.

"My drinks speak for themselves," Cally shot back.

Zuzanna snorted, "oh, you're one of those fancy mixologists, huh? No wonder Frank wanted me to hire you, he's been competing with that ridiculous speakeasy place down the street."

Cally knew Frank was Franciszek Kosowski, the head honcho who supposedly had ties to the Kielbasa Posse in Philly, moving from bookmaking, loansharking and card skimming to dealing in X and a variety of prescription medications. This had been lucrative enough that they were trying to move into dealing heavier things, which is how they got on the radar of other gangs in town; the increase in card skimming was what caught the attention of the Feds and IU. The problem was, nobody seemed to know what enterprise Frank had his sights truly set on, which is why they needed someone on the inside.

* * *

Cally kept busy for the night, slinging plenty of drinks to a fairly diverse clientele; hearing plenty, just none of it actually useful to the case. She forced herself to not break the hands of more than a couple of bro types; reminding herself she was on the job, not filling in at Molly's. She did well enough that Zuzanna disappeared for more than a few smoke breaks. The other, clearly gay, bartender, Stephan, kept to the other end of the bar.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, taking careful note of every patron in the place, hoping that some of them would match the photos currently lining the boards up in IU and while there were plenty of Eastern Europeans milling about, none of them were on their watch list. Other than a few phone pics, she didn't get much other than her share of the tips at the end of the night.

"See, I told you, better tips. Get you a push-up and they'll be even better," Zuzanna remarked handing her a stack of folded bills.

She forced herself to not roll her eyes or grimace, tightening her jaw as she said, "I'll keep that in mind."

The other woman looked like she was about to say something more, but then a figure appeared in the hallway leading to the back office, beckoning her. "You can go, see you next shift," she said, all but shooing Cally away.

"Sure, I just need to get my stuff," she remarked, wanting a closer look at the figure in the shadows, it didn't look like Kosowski, but the man was definitely related. She moved toward the employee lockers, but Zuzanna caught her arm.

"Wait here," she demanded, quickly retrieving the clothing Cally arrived in, shoving it and her purse at her. "Get home safe," she said, staring Cally down. Stephan had already hightailed it out of the bar the second he got his tips.

Cailin forced a sunny smile, "totes, later," she sing-songed, forcing herself to walk out at a casual pace and not look over her shoulder.

* * *

Her phone was already buzzing, Voight calling to check in on her as soon as she turned the corner. "Didn't think you had eyes on the bar yet, sir," she said as soon as she was out of earshot.

"I don't, Callahan. GPS on the phone said you were on the move. You get anything?"

She made a face, of course the phone he gave her was tracking her every movement. Part of her was glad for the safety net, especially as she quickly made her way down the dark block toward transit, debating trying to flag down a cab. The other part of her was completely creeped out that Voight knew her every move. "Kicked out when some mug I'm betting is Kosowski's cousin showed up after closing. This is going to take some finessing," she explained.

Voight made a noise, not quite disappointment, but definitely frustration. HQ was breathing down his neck, nothing new, but he was hoping for something quick with this one since it involved the Feds, and he hated playing nice with the suits.

"I'm good, not a miracle worker, Voight," Cally said with a slight growl.

"It ain't you, sunshine, I just don't like the Feds in my sandbox. Briefing at ten hundred. Sit tight, would you?"

"Fine, see you then," she replied before knitting her brow, "wait, sit ti-" she started to ask before realizing he had already hung up. Her question answered when Halstead pulled up next to the curb.

"You just gonna stand there or are you going to get in?" he snapped through the rolled down window, looking less than pleased to be there.

"I didn't ask for a chauffeur," she said, wrenching open the door and glaring at him.

He smirked at her, "nice outfit, now get in, Callahan."

She flushed, mumbling about it being a uniform as she slid in and slammed the door shut. Luckily the streets were dead that late on a weekday night and Jay had her back at Clarke's in record time. "Sorry to ruin your night," she said as he pulled up to the building.

"It was a bad date anyway, probably saved me from doing something I would regret," he said, shaking his head and laughing.

"How's the Mikhailov case going?" she asked.

Jay's entire demeanor changed, his face going blank, his jaw tightening. "Slow," was all he said.

"No wonder Voight sounded too pissed, betting Erin is too. At least you both get to be full clothed," she remarked, slightly self-deprecating.

Jay just nodded, still dour.

"Alright then, thanks for the ride. Really though, I'll make sure Voight knows that Goldilocks can make it home without getting eaten by a bear. See you in the morning."

* * *

She let herself in, trying to be beyond quiet as the clock crept toward 3 a.m. as Jeff was on shift tomorrow. Today, Cally corrected herself. She stopped short as she entered the bedroom, the lamp on his bedside table on, Clarke deep in a paperback.

"Please tell me you weren't waiting up for me, cowboy," she said softly from the doorway.

He looked up, smiling as he marked his place in the book. "Nah, fell out for a while but-" he broke off, taking in her appearance, "um, you weren't wearing that when you left, were you?" Clarke hoped his tone was light as he took in the tight black corset and practically non-existent skirt. It wasn't that Cally didn't look damn sexy in it, it was that she did. And it was 3am and he had to be up in Roger's Park in a few hours and how many guys had tried to put their mitts on his girl...

"Don't even start. Better than Hooter's, I suppose. Apparently it is the uniform," she replied, using air quotes around the last word. "I hate this case already. Nothing like working two jobs for the price of one, I doubt I'm allowed to keep the tips," she said, moving around to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge next to him. "Now can you help me get out of this thing, I don't think I've taken a full breath in like ten hours."

"Pretty sure I would do anything you ask right now, babe," he said, reaching for the ribbon lacing the corset together.

"Very. Funny." She felt the fabric give way, letting out a groan before taking in a greedy lungful of air.

He couldn't help but laugh as he teased, "thought we talked about you making those kind of noises when I'm not responsible for them, Callahan." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her fully up on the bed on top of him. "Do I even want to know how many guys you had to beat off of you tonight?" he asked in between kisses.

"You string one bro up in a tree, the rest tend to stay away. They're like crows," she said, moving out of his arms with a glimmer in her eye, "don't tell me you are jealous, Jeff."

"I don't know if I'd call it jealousy, Cal. It's just I've barely seen you the past week and when I do see you, you are wearing practically nothing and it isn't because you've been with me all night," Clarke admitted as she slipped out of the scraps she was barely wearing and into one of his well-worn tees she had commandeered as a nightshirt.

"Olinsky and Ruzek failed to mention the lack of dress code, promise," she said, sliding in next to him, snuggling up to his side.

He looked down at her, his lips in a straight line. "Good to know. How did you get home without having to shoot anybody?" he commented.

"Voight sent Halstead to pick me up, he was super excited to drive Miss Daisy, let me tell you," she retorted.

Clarke looked slightly taken aback; he was surprised Voight actually cared enough about any member of his team to worry about them getting home. The man moved up a fraction of a percentage point in his book. A tiny fraction.

At least he knew the Sergeant rubbed Severide the wrong way as well. The two men had been in close contact, not just through his recovery, but even after Clarke handed Squad's reigns back over to him. Not that Severide hadn't tried to convince him to stay on, take his old spot back.

Clarke considered it, seriously, except he did want to move up in the CFD for a variety of reasons. First, he did still want him and Cally to get their own place, maybe something without adjoining walls and the Lieutenant pay bump would make much quicker work of that. Secondly, he still held tight to the silent promise he had made to her that day in the hospital, that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she never lost him; every promotion put him a little further toward keeping that promise.

She studied him carefully, taking in his look of surprise and then the far off look he got in his eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow, poking him gently. "You really are okay with me going undercover, right, you get that is a big part of my being up in IU?"

Cally held her breath waiting for his answer. She had spent most of her career as a cop going undercover, it wasn't just her master's thesis, it was how she climbed through the ranks so fast. Except ever since Doyle, since returning home, since Jeff had known her, she hadn't been under…except for that day he and Severide rescued her from that bathroom.

But she wasn't just thinking about that, she was also thinking about Antonio and Laura, recalling one of the first times she had really bonded with Gabby, talking about how strong her brother's marriage must be and now look at them. She and Jeff were only barely living together, and what if he said he wasn't okay with it?

Clarke looked down at her, seeing the storm clouds pass over her eyes as she asked the weighted question. He hadn't fully figured out how he felt about her going undercover or working with IU. He had known from the first day he met her that she was a cop, it was who she was; as dangerous a profession as the one he was in, it wouldn't be fair to say he wasn't okay with it. But as much as he wanted to make sure she didn't lose him, he couldn't even contemplate the idea of losing her. And being in IU certainly had its risks. It was yet another thing he and Severide bonded over. Though since Detective Lindsay had been under Voight's wing for longer than she had been a cop, in that respect, the other man had less to worry about; Voight wouldn't let anything happen to his surrogate daughter.

Strangely, he was somewhat more comfortable with her up in IU, the smaller team more close-knit, fiercely protective, and elite. In some ways, they were like the Marines.

He cleared his throat, "you need to do what you need to do, Cally, I get that. Better you be risking your ass with them watching your six than the numskulls you used to work with."

"I'm not sure that answers my question, babe, but it is beyond late and I have things I would much rather do than debate you," she said, giving him that little mischievous smile that made his heart immediately speed up and his blood pressure rise.

"You sure you don't need to go to sleep?" he teased, even as he was reclaiming his t-shirt.


	10. The Big Smoke

**Chapter Ten: The Big Smoke**

_I know some of you might be having trouble keeping up, but I couldn't help it, I have good stuff to get to. And I was inspired by another 1,000 visitors to this story. Speaking of inspired, the Clarke/Shay/Severide scene only happened because of Chicago Firestarter's wonderful writing, go check it out! _

* * *

It only took a few shifts before Zuzanna approached her, holding on to the bills she was handing Cailin. "You make good drinks, have nice face, people talk to you," she said, studying the other woman carefully. "You want to make more money?"

"I bought the push-up, didn't I?" Cailin replied, though the push-up bra actually concealed a wire, thanks to Otis' clever tinkering. Cally was determined to get him up in IU before the CFD figured out the treasure they would be losing. She bit her cheek to keep from smiling, knowing this may be their first break.

"Follow me," Zuzanna said, striding off with a purpose toward the back hallway. She paused in front of a door near the end of the hallway, punching in a code on the keypad, not thinking Cally was enough of a threat to bother trying to conceal what it was.

Apparently her dumb blonde act had worked, Cally thought, though she hated how easily it did. The older woman opened the door, it revealing a staircase that led to a basement, one that had come up on the building plans but the door for it wasn't where it was supposed to be in the storage room Cally had scoped out.

* * *

Storage racks filled the basement, plastic tubs, metal cages and wooden crates lining the shelves; speaking to the import and export of plenty of illegal items, from guns to animals to drugs and who knew what else. There also was what appeared to be half an electronics store, and possibly a server farm along one wall.

Cally kept her focus on Zuzanna, not turning her head, but still taking in everything in her periphery. Zuzanna knocked a pattern on another metal door, waiting for a buzz, as it was remotely unlocked. She gestured for Cally to wait, holding up a finger. Cally halted as Zuzanna entered the other room, taking the opportunity to surreptitiously get a few phone pics. "Come, meet Frank," Zuzanna said as she opened the door a few moments later. Cally nodded, adjusting her corset, getting a nod of approval from Zuzanna, even if all she was doing was adjusting the listening device.

"Ah, new girl, come in, come in," Franciszek Kosowski beckoned from behind his gleaming mahogany desk.

Cailin entered, trying to look nervous, though the tugging down of her skirt was not an act as the large man with the potato-shaped head leered at her. She forced herself to not glare at him; looking instead up through her eyelashes, shyly even as she took in the room around her, noticing a doorway behind him with another electronic keypad and a hulk of a man sitting in a chair in the corner behind her, clearly carrying. Zuzanna leaned against the doorway, blocking her exit while casually smoking a cigarette. Cailin tried to ignore the pounding of her heartbeat, her mouth going dry as her stomach flip-flopped. She could do this, she wasn't about to be made, and she hadn't even done anything yet. This was not New York; she was a good cop…she kept repeating to this to herself, barely realizing Frank had started speaking to her.

"But really a, what do they call it, victimless crime. Banks refund money, write off losses, no big, you get $100 a good card," he was saying.

Cally realized he was explaining card skimming, justifying the crime. "What if I get caught?" she said, finally looking at him, making her eyes as big and worried as she could. Which given twitchy trigger finger behind her, wasn't that difficult.

Frank just laughed, the light from overhead bouncing off his shiny, bald, head, his overly whitened, pointy teeth also glinting in the light. Cally wondered if that is how the bar got its name of 'Krokodile'. "Give them that look and lean forward a little and you don't have anything to worry about. Just make sure you leave lady's cards to Stephen and you'll be fine."

Zuzanna laughed from the doorway, cut off only by her hacking smoker's cough. She cleared her throat saying, "I've been watching her, Frank, like a little kitty-cat, this one; purring one second, claws when needed, she'll do well."

"Good work, Zu-zu," he said, giving her a smarmy wink. "Ivan, take her somewhere nice tomorrow night," he said, to the bodyguard in the chair.

Ivan grunted, Cailin used it as an opportunity to turn slightly, getting her first head-on look at the man. She was pretty sure he was the one she had seen her first shift at the bar. "Whatever you say, cousin," he mumbled, looking less than pleased at the request.

Cally realized Frank was staring at her again. "You have boyfriend, Cat-lin?" She just nodded, forcing herself to breath and swallow the bile rising in her throat. "Of course. But here, when working, you don't. He doesn't come by, doesn't call. Rozumiesz?" She got his meaning, nodding her understanding. "Good. You come early before next shift, Zu-zu will show you how to work machine. Now, you go." He waved her off, jutting his chin toward Zuzanna.

"Come," she ordered, Cally quickly following after, emerging on street level by way of a well-concealed door on the side of the building, one that was not on the blueprints.

* * *

She practically ran away from the building toward the blue line, wishing she hadn't begged off Voight's taxi service. She froze when she heard the sound of a car engine approaching behind her, hating her reaction, and feeling incredibly vulnerable. She was over Nansenko; it had been over two years ago. She clutched her phone as she turned around, wishing it were her gun as the car slowed to a stop. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the woman behind the wheel.

"Erin," she breathed out, getting in. "What are you doing here?"

"Hank had a feeling you might be making some headway. Sent me as soon as you activated those," the other woman replied with a smirk, gesturing to Cally's cleavage, still slightly heaving as she fought to get her heart rate and breath back to normal.

"Shut up, Lindsay," Cailin muttered, before continuing, "but it's the middle of the night and aren't you working the other case? Great, now Severide's gonna be pissed at me."

"I am acutely aware of what time it is, Callahan," Erin said, gesturing to her pajama pants and sweatshirt, "and when is the last time you talked to your fireman? Severide is up at some lake him and Shay."

Cally nodded her head, Clarke had trying to hide his annoyance at her constantly working; when he no longer could, he mentioned heading up on his next off shift to his cabin. She vaguely remembered this discussion; it coming after Voight's incessant phone calls had woken them up from the first good bit of sleep they had gotten in a while. "Fox Lake, right," she said, forcing the details. "I thought Casey was going with them too."

Erin shrugged, "begged off for some engagement party thing with the NYC Dawson contingent, Antonio took off too."

Cailin nodded again, still feeling a bit out of it. She had been running for a couple of weeks on no sleep and it had taken everything in her to not have a full blown panic attack in that room with Frank.

Working this case had isolated her from most of IU, except for the occasional drop in by Ruzek or Olinsky; they came by, posing as patrons, making sure she was good. "Oh yeah, I remember now. So we're down a member, Voight will be in an extra good mood tomorrow. Maybe me getting somewhere on this case will lighten him up a bit. Is that even possible?" she asked, giving Erin a long look, wondering why the woman was being so quiet, it seemed more than being roused out of bed at a late hour. Erin just gave a slight shrug and shook her head, remaining quiet on the way back toward Palmer Square.

"Sorry my boyfriend stole your boyfriend," Cally remarked as she slid out of the car.

"It's fine, Cal, we aren't attached at the hip," Erin said with something between a grin and a grimace.

Cally couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some tension happening between the two incredibly strong willed and independent pair; but she also had an inkling something else was brewing behind the detective's pretty hazel eyes. "See you in too few, Lindsay."

"Ain't that the truth? Good night, Callahan."

* * *

"Oh stop acting like a big baby," Shay admonished, wrapping the bandage around Severide's swelling ankle.

"What are you smirking at, Clarke?" Severide growled, slit eyes glaring at his former squad man.

Clarke shrugged, "I'm just saying, you pull all this hotshot crap at work, jumping out of windows, off ladders, into who knows what and are 'I'm all good, I'm all good' and you manage to slip on a dock getting into a boat and do this?" He gestured at the other man, lying supine on the ratty couch in the cabin.

"If either of you breathe one word about this to anybody back home, I swear to you…" Severide warned giving them a look that said it wasn't an empty threat. "Not even to Callahan, especially not Callahan; she'd tell Erin in a freaking heartbeat and then I would definitely never hear the end of it."

Shay and Clarke caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. "That's it, get the hell out of here, both of you. I hope not a single damn fish bites all day!" Severide roared, adjusting the ice pack and waving them off.

* * *

"It's good to get away, I needed this," Shay remarked in the boat a while later.

Clarke just nodded, thinking Severide's curse seemed to be coming true.

She made a face at him, hoping he would latch on to her statement. The problem with having a stoic Marine as a lesbro was that he didn't really force her to open up. Even when she was practically begging him to make her do so. Kelly was so much better at this. Except now all his free time was taken up by extra PT or Detective Hairporn. Not that Clarke had oodles of extra time to spare with Detective O'Blondie having moved in. Not that she didn't like them both, wouldn't have jumped at the chance to knock boots with either of them if they started playing for her team, but it wasn't the same. And Gabby, well, Gabby was either mooning over Casey, bitching about him or going on and on about colors and catering and invitations. Blech.

"You're supposed to ask me why I needed this, Clarke!" Shay finally admonished when he continued to remain quiet.

"Other than you've been dealing with the building explosion, your best friend being paralyzed, being injured yourself, Gabby moving up to my house in Roger's Park and getting engaged, neither Severide or I having as much time as we used to for you and Devon hightailing it out of town once things got rough?" He shot her a look, "did I miss anything?"

"Screw you, Clarke," Shay said, frowning at him before breaking into a smile. "You really do know me!" She tried to punch him playfully on the shoulder, almost capsizing the small wooden boat they were in. "Whoa, Nelly!" she exclaimed, sitting back down.

Clarke just shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"It has been rough lately, with you guys all happy and in love and stuff. Not to mention Gabby and her stupid wedding binder…" Shay trailed off, making a most disgusted face.

Clarke studied her, trying to figure how much was disgust and how much was jealousy or loneliness, when Shay let out a sigh.

"I'm lonely, Clarke," she admitted. "I told you about Clarice, right?"

"After too many tequila shots, yes, you told me all about her. She sounded like a real winner," he smirked.

"Don't make me bring up the L word, Clarke."

He raised his eyebrows, "lesbian? Apparently she wasn't." He knew she was about to bring up Lisa, but he wasn't willing to go there, not with what was weighing on his own mind this trip.

"What I don't think I told you was that after that I wanted to have a baby." She let the statement lie there; searching for any reaction from her friend, and, of course, not getting one. "Kelly was all set to donate his swimmers until stupid Renee showed back up with a bun in her oven." She shook her head, her ponytail whipping around angrily, "which wasn't even his."

Clarke remained stone faced, he had heard bits and pieces of this saga during his time at 51, but had tried to keep his head down and nose clean, like usual.

"Anyway, maybe I've been thinking about it again, since that day…I know I still want a kid, but you don't know how awful it was trying to find a donor the first time around…" She looked incredibly dejected.

"I can only imagine. Though given some of the women I've seen you bring around, I am surprised your standards are that high, Shay," Clarke teased.

Shay scowled at him, "as bed mates, not to father my child, Clarke!" She paused, looking at him appraisingly.

Clarke stiffened, somehow knowing what was about to happen, but not knowing how to stop it.

"What about your swimmers?"

"What about them, Shay?" he asked, suddenly entranced with the shoreline on the other side of the lake.

"I mean if you aren't using them…" she trailed off.

Clarke shook his head, closing his eyes and debating tipping the boat over on purpose. "Who said I ain't using them?"

Shay let out a yelp before dropping her voice to a whisper, not that anyone was around. "Are you telling me Cally's pregnant?"

"No, she's not pregnant," he said, finally making eye contact, "but that doesn't mean I'm not using my 'swimmers' eventually, Shay," he finished using air quotes.

"Maybe she wouldn't mind," she pressed, though his glare told her otherwise. "Well it doesn't hurt to ask, it's not like you two are married." She caught the slightest twitch in his eyebrow. "Jeffrey Clarke, spill, now."

He studied her for a long beat. "I may have considered asking Cailin to marry me. We've talked about it, shortly before Boden's wedding actually."

"Uh-huh. I know you, Clarke, and you don't just considering things. So tell me, what's the plan? Is it better than Casey's right? I still got the number of that hot air balloon guy."

Clarke rubbed his forehead, already regretting this conversation. He was telling the truth, he had considered it. But Shay was right, he had done far more than consider it; already knew the ring and the day he wanted to ask. Except part of him was still a little worried she might say no.

"You're right, Cally isn't really a hot air balloon kind of girl," Shay said, tapping her finger on her chin, "something more low key, like you could drop a ring in her drink at Molly's. But then she might choke on it. You could show up at the precinct but Voight would probably ruin it for you. If you need me to go ring shopping, or find out her ring size, I'm really good at that, you can ask Gabby."

Clarke finally let out a laugh, "I'm all good, Shay. Got the ring, got it sized, even know when I want to do it…just gotta figure out how." He paused, "since apparently this is the trip of secrets, not a word of this to anyone. Not even Severide," he stared at her, warningly.

"Hold up, you already have the ring and know when and you are just now telling me about this?" Shay mocked being wounded. "I thought we were buds, Clarke!"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

She tried to glare at him, but her excitement got the better of her. "Fine, just do a better job than Casey did, would ya?"


	11. Quest for Fire

**Chapter 11: Quest for Fire**

_I'm loving all the love (welcome new readers)! Warning: this chapter is drama filled but in a much different way. To Roxana who needs an account already: remember Cally has a much happier family background than Gus, so their reactions/choices will probably be different! ;) Props to Ms Isabella for writing an AWESOME Voight story, go check it out "They Don't Know" under CPD. _

* * *

"It's swiping a few credit cards through a reader, Voight, I think I can handle it," Cailin snapped during the briefing meeting. All of IU was acting strangely, she had hoped getting further in with Zuzanna and Frank would have put them in better moods. At least Atwater and Halstead had taken off to meet with a CI, which would hopefully lead to taking out a couple of key Disciple members. Did Erin and Voight just exchange a look? Why were Olinski and Ruzek refusing to make eye contact?

"Just stay out of the damn basement, Callahan," Voight ordered.

She leveled a stare at him, "I'll do what I need to do to get the intel we need. Last time I checked this was the Intelligence Unit, right?

A vein began to throb in Voight's head, he started to turn red, opening his mouth, but Erin laid a hand on his arm before speaking. "You don't have backup, Cally, and it isn't like you can really hide a piece in that uniform. Just skim the cards, take some pics and keep your nose clean. Save the cowboying for Clarke, would ya?" Her hazel eyes caught on Cally's blue ones, warning her to stand down.

Cally took in the expression on her friend's face, debating seeing how much further she could push; but Erin knew Voight better than anyone, and her eyes were saying 'chill'. "Fine, nose clean, got it." She turned to the pair of men, trying to pretend they were sitting casually at their desks. "I'm guess you two will be stopping by as marks?" she asked, somewhat petulantly. They once again avoided her gaze, busying themselves with files and the computer. "Alright then, since this has been such a productive meeting and apparently I'm not allowed to know anything about your other case, I'm going to go maybe catch more than three hours of sleep, if that's cool with you," she said, giving Voight a look.

After yet another call went to Jeff's voicemail, she gave up; deciding she didn't want to be the nagging girlfriend, and decided to actually try to catch up on sleep. She hoped he was having a good time with Shay and Severide up at the lake, they all more than needed it. She made a mental note to check in with both Gabby and Matt when they got back, right as she fell into a deep sleep, though it was plagued with restless dreams falling barely short of nightmares.

* * *

Cailin arrived early to her next shift at the Krok, Zuzanna eagerly waiting to show her who to use the card skimmers.

"Frank, he liked you. That's a good thing. Other girl who worked here before you, she didn't know her place."

She thought better of asking what happened to the girl before her, instead just pasting on a big smile and saying, "he seemed cool, and hey, money is money, right?"

Zuzanna just laughed, gesturing with her cigarette. "That is what I like to say."

She was most of the way through her shift when Halstead came slinking through the door, looking none to happy to be there. Cailin put on a show, Zuzanna close by. "Looks like you could use a drink, what's your poison, sweetie?" she said with a wink. It was enough to get Zuzanna to appraise Jay give her a knowing nod and walk away. It had been her signal for whose card to swipe throughout the evening.

"Sweetie?" Jay remarked as soon as the bar manager moved away. "What are you, 80?"

"Bite me, Jay," Cally muttered under her breath, wiping at an invisible spot in front of him.

"I'll take a beer," he paused, "and a water."

Cally rolled her eyes, turning and reaching for a top shelf scotch and then pulling out an expensive bottle of water. "Big spenders get skimmed," she said in a low voice before saying, "that should make your night better, do you want me to start a tab?" Jay nodded, handing a card over. With both Zuzanna and Stephan out from behind the bar and it oddly quiet, she leaned toward Jay and said, "did this interrupt another date? Because you really do look like someone pissed in your cornflakes, Jay."

He took a drink of the scotch, having mostly ignored the water. "Nah, just sick of hearing Erin talk about Severide this and oh Kelly that while staking out Mykola."

"You aren't jealous, are you, blue eyes?" Cally teased before saying, "who is Mykola?" She was trying to figure out why her gut twisted at hearing the name, her brain coming up blank.

Jay shrugged, "Erin can sleep with whoever she wants to. The boss of that Russian chick we've been tracking, the handsy one," he said with a shudder.

Cally pulled a rack of glasses from the dishwasher, putting them up as she said, "I think Erin and Kelly are more serious than just sleeping together, Jay." She paused before giving him a serious look and saying, "dipping your pen in the company ink can get real messy, real quick. Trust me on that, Jay."

He drained his glass, giving her a long look. There was something serious enough in her expression that he didn't argue. It was almost enough for him to spill the beans on Mykola, but Erin had threatened to relieve him of his testicles if he did so. He couldn't believe she and Voight thought they could keep the New York connection from Cailin. She was smart and relentless, not to mention a damn good detective. If she hadn't been so focused on this case and proving she was fine back out in the field, the jig would have already been up. He was about to say something when the other bartender came back in, reeking of cigarette smoke.

"Kinda dead tonight, huh?" Cally remarked, looking around.

"Yeah, actually think I'm going to head out since I don't think I am going to get any more," he gestured to the scanner below the bar, "customers tonight," he finished. He took off, which kept Cally busy for the next while, Jay not moving from his spot, nursing his second drink.

Zuzanna appeared at her side saying, "Frank is entertaining some people downstairs, I am needed there. You alright here?"

Cailin nodded, taking it as a good sign she was being left alone while still wondering just what kind of entertaining Frank was doing downstairs. She forced herself to not look at Jay. "I'll be fine. Go, before Frank gets restless."

* * *

Zuzanna didn't reappear, leaving Cally to close up on her own. She caught sight of Ivan guarding the door to the downstairs, the way he was standing, hand itching toward the gun he had inside his sport coat made Cally's skin crawl. Something big was going on downstairs. She hustled Jay out of the bar, passing her key off to him as she said, "saddle up, get the team here, now. I'm going to see what I can find out downstairs. Once they are on their way, let yourself back in."

"Voight said to stay out of the basement, Callahan," Jay warned, not liking her rushing in.

"I know you like to follow orders, soldier, but I'm not missing out on an op because Voight said so. Back me up or don't, but I'm going down there," Cailin said, looking at him impatiently, wondering if they had sparked Ivan's attention yet.

He knew she wasn't letting up, bending down and removing his backup piece from his ankle holster. "Try to find somewhere to stick this at least," he said, handing her the .22.

She took it, grumbling about sticking it, tucking it into the back of her corset. "Surprised you could fit that in those skinny jeans, Halstead. See you soon."

"Be smart, Callahan," he said with a small salute before jogging off.

* * *

"Man giving you trouble, Cat-lin?" Ivan asked, stepping out of the shadows when she walked back in.

Cailin smiled and shook her head, "nothing I can't handle, just was getting a little overly friendly, I told him to not bother coming back; we already got everything we needed from him anyway," she ended with a wink. "Do you think Zuzanna needs any help?" she asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, forcing the disgust down as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Ivan stared at her, looking more into her cleavage than her eyes, a salacious grin spreading across his face. "I'm sure Frank wouldn't mind an extra set of…hands," he said, giving Cally a wink of his own, punching in the code on the keypad and swinging the door open.

He followed after her, as Cally had hoped, making it easier for Jay to slip back in unnoticed. She just hoped he wouldn't take too long. Despite wanting to prove herself to Voight and get a win for IU, she knew she was acting hastily. It was something she had done plenty of times before in New York, but things were different now. She didn't have Doyle knowing her every move before she even made it.

No, she had Clarke, waiting at home for her. Something she wouldn't trade for the world. She could practically hear him telling her to watch her six, knowing she was doing anything but. Cailin stumbled slightly on a step as guilt washed over her.

"Careful," Ivan said, wrapping a meaty paw around her upper arm.

Cailin shivered at his touch as she made her way down the last couple of stairs. She took in every detail of the scene before her. It seemed like a hybrid between a guy's poker night and a high-end silent auction. Women and men in designer duds, though all of them looking like Euro-trash were milling about the basement, or seated at tables playing cards. Wares were displayed on the racks, ranging from jewelry and handbags to electronics to bottles of pills to guns; tablets next to them displaying the current bids. She turned the corner, half expecting to see a string quarter playing, as it almost looked like some bizarre high-end gala. Except bizarre was the only part of that supposition was true, cages containing exotic and endangered live animals lining the wall.

"Such interesting creatures, aren't they?" Frank said, catching sight of her, pointing to a lemur, "like man, but not," he said, feeding it a slice of fruit. "How nice of you to join us," he said, studying her carefully.

She gave a small shrug, "Zuzanna said she was helping you and didn't come back up, just wanted to see if she needed help. Ivan let me down." She kept his gaze, adding, "I got a few cards, but I left the machine upstairs. Do you want me to get it?"

Frank waved her off, "it is fine, good work, Cat. I'll pay you later, but for now, join me for a drink, I'll even make it," he said with a bark of laughter.

She followed after him to where the bar area was set up, Zuzanna half-working, more flirting. The older woman gave her a sly smile, "I'm glad you came down. Did you make friends with Mr. Scotch?" She waggled her eyebrows and made a swiping motion.

"Of course," Cally laughed, hoping it did sound as brittle to them. They spent a few minutes making small talk, though much of it was in Polish, which Cailin didn't understand a word of.

Finally Frank paused at said, "Zu-zu, make me and Cat-lin something delicious, would you?"

Zuzanna narrowed her eyes at Cailin for a brief moment, before smiling and saying, "of course, Frank, for you, anything."

"No need to make me anything, I'll just have wine," Cailin said, gesturing to the sealed bottle next to Zuzanna, deftly moving in to open it herself.

"Please, Cat-lin, stop working, look around, tell Frank is there is anything you like, we might be able to work out a deal," he said, giving her a look.

Cailin forced herself to not retch, pouring a glass of wine and taking the opportunity to look around, hoping Jay was able to gather the team quickly.

* * *

There was a plethora of illegal doings happening in the room that they could pin on Frank, far beyond the scope of what the FBI even knew about. Not that they had done a damn thing other than bug Voight and Brass about updates, letting IU gather intelligence, probably waiting to scoop the case from under them. If they moved tonight, for once CPD might get all the glory. At least at first, but by the looks of it ATF, F&W, UCSIS, the FBI and who knows what other alphabet soup would be called in.

She gathered quite a few looks from the guests of Frank's bizarro soiree. Still clad in her uniform, she was wearing far less than every non-working girl there. Whether escorting by choice or employment, the women all gave her a chilly reception. She wondered if she was more likely to pull the revolver for one of them or Frank. The cold metal against her back was oddly reassuring, even if she knew she wouldn't be able to get to it easily. She hoped the gadget Otis had rigged up was transmitting, and even more hoped someone was listening. Her heart rate sped up as she realized a card table, the dealer's back to the door, blocked the cellar service exit. Frank's office door was open, turned into an impromptu cigar smoking room, but the door behind it was still locked. They still hadn't been able to figure out what was back there based on building blueprints. There were far too many people crammed down here and the chaos that was sure to ensue once IU bust in would probably result in someone get trampled, to say nothing of what might get released if any of those cages got knocked over. Luckily none of the guns on display seemed to be loaded, ammo in a separate section, though not far enough away for Cally's comfort.

She tried to ignore her pounding heart, her mouth going dry. Maybe she should just try to get some pictures, enough of the women were taking stupid selfies, what were a few more? Between that, the recordings, her statements and the swiped card planted from Jay were more than enough to put away Franciszek Kosowski and his burgeoning syndicate. Now how to call things off before IU busted in and caused a stampede?

Cailin didn't get a chance to figure it out, a bear of a man charging out from Frank's office, having first exited from the secret room behind the desk. He looked like Steven Seagal and The Rock had a little brother, except that little brother was on steroids, loved black leather and was clearly packing. He paused by Frank, saying a word that even Cally could figure out. "Intruz." Intruder, Jay had probably let himself back in. She went to reach for the revolver, trying to snake her hand up her corset but was stopped by Zuzanna's hand, surprisingly strong for such a slight woman, locking around her forearm.

"You should go, now," Zuzanna said, leading her toward the card table and the service cellar.

"Wait," Ivan said from the stairs, causing both women to turn along with half the room. Standing halfway down the stairs were Ivan and the bear man, Jay tucked between them; it was then Cally noticed Ivan was clutching a gun with a silencer.


	12. Fire Down Below

**Chapter 12: Fire Down Below **

_Greetings from Chicago, my "Shaycation" happiness means y'all get another chapter. Love to all my faithful supporters, will raise a pint at Molly's (Lottie's) for you!_

* * *

Cailin's heart froze as her eyes met Jay's.

"Oh look it's Mr. Scotch," Zuzanna said, narrowing her eyes at Cally, "do you know him?"

"Just from tonight," she lied, hopefully convincingly. Jay's appearance hadn't changed, which either meant his vest was on beneath his clothes or he wasn't wearing one. Cally didn't like what her gut was telling her. She hoped he at least had his service weapon, though his untucked shirt concealed any glimpse she tried to get.

"He was giving her trouble earlier," Ivan said, looking from Cailin to Frank, digging an elbow into Jay's side.

Frank shook his head, "everybody, go back to having good time, just a party crasher, nothing to worry about." He waved everyone off before coming over to Zuzanna and Cailin. "We'll sort this out in my office."

Cailin wasn't sure if that was better or worse, but just nodded, hoping to buy time. Ivan and the bear, who Cailin thought was named Alec, roughly escorted Jay into the office, disrupting the cigar smokers. Frank was on their heels, Zuzanna kept her grip on Cailin as they also followed close behind.

"Caitlin, you said you had boyfriend other night, this him, no?" Cally shook her head, thinking that wasn't the best way to play this, not after Frank's warning that her boyfriend never come by. She had a feeling if she admitted to breaking the rules, he would instruct Ivan or Alec to start breaking bones. "So you don't know him before tonight?" he pressed.

She caught Jay's eyes again, they were clear and focused, but beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. She desperately wished she had worked with him more, had some idea of what he was thinking and how they should play this. But he was smart and had Ranger training, so she was just going to have to wing it and hope for the best. "I don't think so, Frank, but you know these pretty boys, they all start to look the same after a while," she said with a roll of her eyes and a laugh.

This was enough to get Frank to laugh as well and get Zuzanna to drop her hand. Cailin refused to breath the sigh of relief she wanted to, they were nowhere near out of the woods. "What is your name, Mr. Scotch?"

Jay looked at Cailin for a long beat before sliding his eyes to Frank, "Kevin."

"You got a last name?"

"Hank."

Cailin gave a slight nod, Jay was telling her who was coming.

"Have you been in here before, Kevin Hank?" Frank pressed, looking from Cailin to Jay, still not completely sold.

Jay shrugged as much as he could, "probably, I think my friend Adam likes this place. Cute girls, strong drinks," he finished with a smile, playing it as cool as a cucumber, "and that's about it."

Three of them, three of them were coming; though with this crowd, they could use all hands on deck. Cailin was trying to do mental math in her head on how long it would take them to meet up and formulate a plan. How long had she been down there?

Apparently long enough judging by what happened commotion coming from the outside room could only mean one thing, the cavalry had arrived.

* * *

Things happened in quick succession: surprised yelps and screams from out front, Ivan's grunt as Jay elbowed him and the quick succession of fists meeting their mark as he unarmed him, the echo of the steel door being kicked open to whatever lay behind Frank's desk, Alec barking something to Frank as he rushed him through the doorway, Cailin fighting to free the revolver from her corset as she heard a familiar zing. She froze for the briefest of seconds, enough time for one of Zuzanna's hands to yank bank on her hair and the other arm to snake around her neck. Once again, she found herself with cold, sharp, metal pressed against her jugular. But this time, the holder of the blade was a slight Polish woman with a three pack a day habit and Cally wasn't going down without a fight.

She shoved both her elbows back, meeting with the women's ribcage stepping back at the same time, letting the heel of her ankle boot meet the delicate arch of Zuzanna's foot, surprised when the woman didn't drop the butterfly knife. But she had dropped her arm from around Cailin's neck and from her hair. Which was enough for Cailin to spin around, finally freeing her gun in the process it and point it at Zuzanna. "Chicago PD, drop the knife, now, Zuzanna."

Sadly, Zuzanna wasn't going down without a fight either. She lunged at Cailin, whipping the blade around with practiced ease. Cailin jumped back, her hand still wrapped around the trigger of the revolver, ducking as Zuzanna tried to slice and dice her. "Drop it," Cailin ordered, even though she knew the other woman wasn't about to give up. She aimed, the bullet grazing the woman's shoulder, jarring her backwards despite its small-caliber. The knife finally came loose, clattering across the floor. Cailin slammed her foot down on it, staring down at Zuzanna who was pressing her hand to stem the blood now flowing from her shoulder.

She looked up at Cailin with pure hate in her eyes, "you bitch, you shot me!"

Cailin looked down at her, anger replacing the blood in her veins. "I barely winged you and I told you to drop it. Plus, didn't anyone ever tell you to not bring a knife to a gun fight?"

A strangled bark of laughter came from Jay, who had finally wrestled Ivan to the ground and had cuffed him, his service weapon trained on the man as he moved over to the doorway behind the desk. "Crap, there's another staircase in here," he swore, seeing the room empty of any occupants. "Where does this lead?" he yelled at Ivan, moving back over to where the man was still prone on the floor.

"To your mother's house," Ivan said, spitting in Jay's face.

The door to the office burst open behind them, Atwater standing there.

"You okay?" Jay asked, wiping his face off, noticing Cailin still had the revolver pointed at the woman on the floor, though she was shaking like a leaf.

"I will be when we cuff her and find Frank," Cailin replied, cursing herself as her voice cracked.

"I'm going up," Jay said, gesturing as he went tearing off toward it.

Atwater moved next to Cailin, glaring at Ivan who was trying to get back up, despite being cuffed. "Callahan, I can't cuff her if you don't lower that revolver," he said, noticing how her hands were trembling.

"What?" Cailin asked, looking at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

"Put your damn gun down," he said again, reaching out toward her.

She stiffened before realizing she was still two-handing the gun. She dropped her hands, it dangling from her right hand, watching as Atwater made quick work of handcuffing Zuzanna and hauled her out of the office.

She followed after them, barely taking in the chaos around her. Her running commentary as she was wandering around earlier must have been heard, because SWAT had joined the party as well. While it looked like many of the 'guests' had gotten away, several of them were sitting on the floor with their hands zip-tied behind their backs.

Voight was nowhere to be seen, but Ruzek was working to try to convince some of the animals that had gotten lose to get back in their cages. A horrible screech sounded from above as a monkey went for Ruzek's head, in full attack mode. Cailin reacting with pure reflex, popping two rounds into the simian's body before it could meet its mark.

His eyes met hers, in both shock and wonder as she dropped the gun. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, her eyes glazing over, "except I just killed an endangered monkey."

"I wasn't asking about that, Callahan, I was asking about that," he said, pointing to the gash through her corset and the bloody wound exposed beneath.

"Just a scratch, I'm fine," she said, not feeling any pain even as she wiped the blood away. "Let's find Frank."

* * *

She made her way back through the office, to the anteroom; a room that Cailin now realized was a high-tech security room, not just of the Krok, but also Frank's other properties. Cailin took the stairs first, Atwater and Ruzek hot on her heels. They emerged on the side of the building; another door painted to look like it was part of the wall.

The building bathed in red and blue flashing lights, increasing as the alphabet soup of agencies arrived. The only law enforcement seemingly not represented was Voight and Halstead.

"There," Atwater said, pointing up the block where two figures hovered over a third in the middle of the street.

The trio ran up, seeing Voight doing chest compressions on Franciszek Kosowski, cursing up a storm. "You ain't damn well dying on me, Kosowski. You're giving me the info I need and then you are going to rot in prison, you sack of shit!" he swore as he kept pressing down. Halstead was barking on his cell phone, giving a description of the car Alec was driving as he dumped Frank's body out into the street.

They had to jump out of the way as the ambo squealed up, quickly loading Frank inside. Voight climbed inside, pausing to look at his team. "I'm going with him to see what I can get. You all know what to do here, but then I want all your asses back at the precinct to sort through this mess." He stared directly at Cailin as he said this, his expression one that she couldn't entirely discern.

* * *

The scene was a mess, literally because of the stampede of people trying to get out and figuratively because of all the agencies fighting for a piece of the pie. Dawn was approaching as Cailin saw someone trying to haul two familiar faces away.

"Those two are coming with us," Cailin demanded, pointing at Ivan and Zuzanna, stepping in between them and the FBI Agent trying to haul them off, "the rest of them are all yours."

He looked her up and down, still in her 'uniform', with a CPD windbreaker Halstead had thrown at her. "And you are?"

"Detective Callahan, IU," she said, glaring at him.

"Wasn't sure, didn't see a badge, not sure how I could have missed-"

Her switch flipped, "listen here, suit, I've been the one undercover, gathering intel on your employer's request. I'm the one that knew tonight was happening and called it in. I'm the one that had-"

"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, holding his palms up, "thanks for all your help. You might want to get that looked at though," he said, pointing to her wound.

She looked down, realizing it was starting to throb as her adrenaline high started to ebb. "Yeah, I'll go do that," she said before looking around and seeing Atwater. "Hey, Atwater, help me get these two to booking, would you?"

* * *

The trio was up early, ready to get back to the city. Not that they hadn't had a good time, but there was only so much you could drink and fish, and Severide kept bitching about his ankle. Clarke bet that had something to do with the texts he kept getting from his detective; he didn't entirely blame him, in fact he was a little jealous that he hadn't heard from Cally since she left that voicemail the day before last.

They all had needed to get away, needed a chance to vent about things and not be reminded of the day of the blast with every boarded up building they passed. But Clarke would have much rather spent a long weekend off holed up in the cabin with Cailin, he would bet every last dime in his bank account they wouldn't have left early.

"What are you grinning about, jarhead?" Severide asked from the backseat, Shay having claimed shotgun before they had even stepped out of the cabin.

"He's probably thinking about his girlfriend, about how he's going to-" Shay cut-off as Clarke glared at her, finishing feebly with, "show her how much he missed her."

Severide snorted, "whipped."

"Like you aren't, Kelly! Like Husky Dimples doesn't have you wrapped around her sweet ass."

"Watch it, Leslie," Severide warned, narrowing his eyes at Clarke's snicker.

The rode in silence, Shay messing with her phone before letting out a grumble. "Stupid girls won't text me back," she mumbled.

"Because they are probably drunk or passed out if you've got their number," Severide teased.

"Ha ha, very funny. I will have you know I have a blind date with an attorney next week and I was talking about your girls," she said, looking at her two companions.

"How often you text 'our girls'?" Severide started before correcting, "okay, his girl, I get, but Erin?"

"We did help coordinate your miraculous recovery, you know," Shay shot back.

Clarke remained silent, enjoying their bantering; it reminded him of siblings, of car trips with his brother, of what he could only imagine Callahan car trips had been like. Made him think about a SUV full of mini-Clarkes bickering on the way to and from the cabin. Yep, proposing to Cally was the right thing, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Clarke, are you going to answer me or not? I think it is a fabulous idea and Kelly is being dumb, as usual," Shay said, rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out at her best friend in the back seat.

"I don't have anything against us taking Erin and Cally to breakfast, Leslie. I just don't want to have to deal with Hank Freaking Voight and busting into his weekly meeting to steal two of his detectives away isn't going to win us any brownie points."

"Well if gramps here would learn how to accelerate, we could get there before the meeting and they'll be late for you, I just know it," Shay said with a knowing nod.


	13. Walk Through Fire

**Chapter 13: Walk Through Fire**

_Love and thanks to ChicagoFirestarter for letting me borrow her case and some Linseride and to all of your reviews and fave/follows! Sine you've been treating me, thought y'all deserved a little treat as well. Hope everyone had a great (long) weekend, I know I have ;)_

* * *

By the time they were finished in booking and made it upstairs, Voight was already waiting for them, Erin and Alvin having joined him as well. Erin's eyes flicked over the four of them, all looking haggard, Jay and Cally more so. It was then she spied the rip in the corset, the drying blood a stark contrast against Cally's pale flesh.

She shot Hank a look, knowing he was ready to lay into his detectives. "Hey, Callahan, let's hit the locker room and I'll bandage that up for you and you can put on some real clothes."

Cailin just nodded, feeling a little like she was floating outside her body, exhaustion overtaking her. She followed after her fellow detective and friend in a daze.

"So how did this happen?" Erin asked, surprised Cally didn't wince as she bathed the cut in alcohol.

"Angry Polish woman with a butterfly knife," Cailin answered as Erin smooth down the bandage.

Erin stood back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Pretty sure Hank said stay out of the basement."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure Hank," she stressed Voight's first name, giving Erin a look, "wouldn't have let an opportunity like that one slide by either."

"He's pissed," Erin said.

"What else is new?" Cailin retorted.

She cracked a small smile, her dimples flashing briefly. "He's pissed because you stuck your neck out. You could have been killed, Jay could have been killed. He was worried about you and Hank Voight does not do worried, Callahan."

"I can take care of myself; we got Ivan and Zuzanna, and Frank, assuming he didn't bleed out in the ambo, didn't we?"

Erin let out a long breath, blowing her hair out of her face. "I know this is going to sound hypocritical given my trying to deal with Charlie on my own, but we are a team up here, Cally. It isn't like VC where nobody wanted you there, where they didn't have your back. You don't have to go it alone. I thought we talked about you saving the superhero stuff for Clarke."

"I saw a chance and I took it, Jay had my back, I was wired and broadcasting, all is well that ends well, right?" Cailin argued, even though her gut told her she had hot-dogged more than she should have. Something came over her, what she had been afraid would happen if she joined IU, that it would be like two years ago in New York; when she was willing to do anything to take down the bad guy.

"Only if it ends well," Erin said, staring at her for a long moment. "We should get back upstairs."

Burgess was on her way in as they were exiting. "Heard you guys had quite the night. Eastern European mobsters going down!" she quipped, gesturing downward with her index fingers.

"Something like that," Erin replied with a shake of her head. Cailin didn't respond as she followed her up the stairs.

* * *

Voight and Erin exchanged a long look as the two women came back in. She gave the slightest shake of her head to let the man know her warning had fallen on deaf ears.

Voight clenched his jaw, he had been hoping the two could have a girl chat and Erin would get through to her. He should have known better. Callahan was headstrong, stubborn, driven to a fault. So much like Erin that way, but also like him with her sudden outbursts of anger and impulsiveness. Despite her innocent looks, there was a darkness in her that emerged without warning. Controlled, it was useful, throwing perps off-guard. But when, like tonight, it surfaced without forethought, things could turn ugly, quickly.

"What the hell were you thinking, Callahan? Wait, don't answer that, because clearly you were not. You have a master's degree in this exact thing; did any of your fancy research tell you that the stunt you pulled tonight was good police work? Because it wasn't. It was stupid and dangerous and it could have gotten you and Halstead killed," Voight raged, pacing back and forth.

"I was fine, am fine," Halstead tried to protest, even though he had wondered for a few seconds while that gun and silencer had been pointed at him. He just didn't want Voight to lose it on Callahan, he recognized the look in her eyes, knew she was holding on by a thread.

"Beside the point, Jay," Voight snapped, glaring at him before turning back to Cailin. "What part of stay out of the basement was so hard to understand, Callahan? Of course you go down and crash Europe's Most Wanted's equivalent of the Met Ball. You better be glad Kosowski made it through surgery," he said, jabbing a finger into Cailin's shoulder, causing the slightest of growls to rise in her chest. He looked at her, seeing her expression go from slightly dead to feral. "Atwater, roll out the damn boards so we can see where we are in this mess!" he ordered, knowing he had pushed as far as he could with the blonde detective as he could for the moment. He wasn't done with her about this yet, though.

* * *

Atwater rolled out the white boards, covered with a mess of mug shots, names, dates and places on the two cases IU had been working. The link between the two became clear.

"Alec," Cailin breathed out, seeing the man's mug shot on both boards.

"Alec Vargo, first-generation American, fourth-generation gangster. While he was providing 'security' for Kosowski, his real game was moving up the ranks in his family's business, trying to expand their empire from New York to Chicago. Historically it was heavy artillery and automatic weapons, but it seems Alec has a taste for young girls," Alvin supplied, his eyes heavy and sad.

"Though he doesn't discriminate in his dealings. Girls, boys, doesn't matter, as long as they can be controlled and won't be missed," Erin added, shaking her head.

"How do you know so much about him, tonight was the first time I saw him at the Krok," Cailin said, looking back and forth between the two boards, a pit of dread in her stomach.

"Oksana used Alec to supply girls for some of Mykola's private parties," Erin supplied, her hazel eyes falling heavy on Cailin's blue ones, before turning to Hank, not so much asking permission, as she was warning him as to what she was about to say. He just narrowed his eyes, working his jaw. "He's been doing so for the past two years," Erin said, taking a step toward where Cailin was standing, staring at the boards.

She stiffened as Erin did so, the names and faces that she had assumed were familiar only because they were similarly foreign now trigging memories she had shoved deep down into the recesses of her mind. The buzzing started in her ears, a high-pitched live wire, blurring her hearing and vision. She closed her eyes, willing it away, following the rise and fall of her breath.

"He filled in for Mykola's former supplier," Erin said quietly.

"Nansenko," Cailin breathed out, her stomach churning, the world tilting. "How long have you known?" she asked, looking from Erin to Voight, thinking about how weird everyone had been acting. Everyone averted their gaze, remaining silent. "God damn it, Erin! You cannot give me some big speech on having each other's backs and being part of a team and not having to go it alone and then not bother to tell me that the bitch you are tracking has ties to someone who almost killed me and did kill my partner!" Fury turned her eyes to ice as her face flushed and her fists clenched.

Erin stood her ground, legs hip-width apart, arms at her own sides, ready to take whatever Cailin was about to dish out; knowing that while her friend may have started over back in Chicago, it didn't mean her wounds from New York had completely healed and while she may be the target, Cailin's anger wasn't actually at her.

The men in the room froze, wondering if a catfight was about to erupt in the middle of the room, all unsure if they should intervene. Voight finally decided he should, practically dragging Cailin to his office, jerking his head for Erin to follow before saying, "everybody else, get your asses back to work and find Vargo!"

* * *

Cailin struggled against Voight's vice grip until he roughly deposited her in a chair. "What the hell, Voight?" she hissed.

"I'm not letting you turn my unit into mud-wrestling night at Hawthorne's, Callahan," he said, perching on his desk in front of the chair he had set her in. "Everything Erin said was true, we are a team and you shouldn't go it alone. I was the one who gave the order to not tell you about Nansenko, so if you want to take someone's head off, come at me; but I will lie you flat. I was also the one that gave you an order to stay out of the basement." He glared at her as she opened her mouth to protest. "I know you had to get a psych clearance after you pulled a gun on that doctor, I'm starting to wonder if you don't need another one. Jesus, Callahan."

"You would have done the same thing," Erin said from where she was leaning against the doorway, carefully observing the exchange. She could tell Hank was beyond pissed, putting people in jeopardy, disobeying orders, jumping out of line in front of everyone…except these were all the same kinds of stunts he pulled all the time. And she knew him well enough that she could also see the perverse admiration in his eyes. Same reason he hadn't put her out on her ass when she fought back as a teenager.

He barely glanced up at her, a raised eyebrow showing his displeasure. "Beside the point," he said, looking directly at Cailin. "You are damn good at what you do and are a good addition to this team, but you have got to remember you are part of one. Shit like what you pulled last night will get you and other people killed and I've already been to too many damn funerals. I don't give second warnings, Callahan, follow my orders or get out of my unit. Understood?"

Cailin was surprised that there wasn't a menacing threat to his tone; in fact, it was more one of disappointment, mixed with something else she couldn't put her finger on. She knew IU was the only place that wanted her in the CPD and she wasn't ready to hang up her badge yet. She also knew that she did enjoy being part of the team, they were like 51 that way, more like family than co-workers. More than that, she knew she needed to be part of a team, this team. Not to mention she was feeling guilty and embarrassed. "Understood, sir, Hank, Voight," she corrected, her cheeks turning red. She craned to look at Erin, "I'm the world's biggest bitch."

Erin couldn't help it, she laughed at Cally's forlorn expression not at all matching her words. "Only when you need to be, Callahan. And we should have told you," she said, giving Hank a look, "but that is water under the bridge. And seeing as everyone is alive, so is what happened last night. So if you aren't going to sucker punch me, how about we go take down Vargo and Mykola?"

Cailin nodded, giving her friend a grateful smile. She owed her one, several, actually. She started to rise but Voight clamped a hand down on her shoulder.

"Not so fast, Callahan. Lindsay, go run the show out there while I debrief this one. Who is then going to see if she needs stitches," he said, pointing at the bloody spot on Cailin's shirt, "and then go home."

"Is that your way of telling me to go to my room and think about what I've done?" Cailin asked with a slight smirk as Erin snickered on her way out.

"Don't test me, Callahan. Now start from the beginning…"

* * *

Erin was in the middle of telling the rest of the guys what had gone down at her and Olinsky's meet the night before when Burgess appeared on the stairs, two male figures following close behind her.

"Detective Lindsay, couple of FD Lieutenants here for you and Detective Callahan," she said, trying to avoid eye-contact with Adam.

Erin looked at Severide and Clarke with a close-lipped smiled before dismissing the other woman, "thank you, Burgess, I got this." The woman nodded, before practically running back downstairs.

Clarke looked around, notching both Cally and Voight were missing and his office door was closed. He tried to ignore the twist in his gut.

Severide felt the tension in the room, trying to play it off, "Geez, Voight's turning into a regular Brass-hole, a meeting before 9am and he doesn't even bother to show up?"

"He's in his office, debriefing Callahan," Erin said through clenched teeth, wondering why the two had popped up unannounced when they were supposed to be fishing and why was Kelly standing so oddly.

"Guess this means you can't get breakfast, huh?" he said, still trying to lighten the mood.

"What do you mean debriefing Cally?" Clarke asked, his eyes pining Erin to her spot.

"Kelly, I'll meet you downstairs in a few. Lieutenant, why don't we talk in here?"? she said gesturing to the observation room.

* * *

"Don't yank my chain, Detective, Cally's okay, isn't she?" Clarke asked, refusing to sit at the table even as the detective pulled out two chairs.

Erin looked at him a long beat, still choosing to sit, hoping he would mirror her actions because she wasn't the biggest fan of angry Marines towering over her. "Physically, she's fine, I think. She might need some stitches," Erin admitted, inwardly groaning as Clarke started to sit down and then jumped back up, heading for the door. "Clarke, wait, busting in on Voight is just going to make things worse for her," she said, pointedly.

"What the hell happened? I leave for a couple of days thinking she is just bar tending and, now what?" he said, his eyes a steel-blue flint.

"She was supposed to be just bar tending, but the case got hot and she took an opportunity," Erin carefully replied. It was an ongoing investigation, and she didn't want to sell her friend and fellow detective up the river for jumping in without looking. Mostly because she was guilty of the same thing and she knew how well Kelly took it, which was poorly. Hell they had just gotten into it over the meets with Oksana, part of the reason he had taken off with Clarke and Shay. "That isn't the issue, her case tied with my case which has ties to New York, from a couple of years ago." Erin let the information sit on the table, hoping Clarke would do the math for her.

"To that bastard, I take it," Clarke replied, unable to say the man's name, a storm immediately rising in him. "Why does that case keep biting her on the ass?" he snapped, not expecting the detective to have an answer, just pissed off for Cally's sake.

"Luckily there aren't that many players in the big leagues, which means the same names keep coming up over and over again. She took the news better than I thought she was going to, especially considering we kept that little tidbit under our hats for a bit."

Clarke let out a bark of snide laughter, "oh yeah, I bet you she took that real well."

"Voight saved her from herself," Erin retorted. Clarke's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Don't look so shocked. I know you and Kelly aren't exactly president of his fan club, but if Hank Voight lets you in and thinks you are worth a damn, he gets pretty damn protective."

"Am I supposed to be glad she's in this pack then?"

"There are far worse places to be," she said with a wry grin. "Think you can sit tight here until Cailin is done so I can go see what my fireman is trying to hide from me?"

Clarke smirked back, not about to spill the beans, knowing Severide would never admit to twisting his ankle on a fishing dock. "I think I can manage."


	14. Low Flame

**Chapter 14: Low Flame**

_Thank you, as always, for all of your support (whether you voice it or not). I have been struggling with chapter 17 and your appreciation helps immensely when I want to delete everything I have ever written! This chapter ends with an interesting blast from the past, but I hope y'all will stick with me. _

* * *

Cailin stepped out of Voight's office, taking his tongue-lashing without flinching. She knew she deserved it, things could have turned out much worse than they did. She couldn't keep diving in head first like that. She had already made detective, she was already in with the best damn unit in all the CPD. Plus, she had a hot fireman to come home to.

So why did she still feel like she had to prove herself and take stupid risks? Which was actually the gist of what Voight had to say. Sure he mixed in plenty of threats and gave her those reptilian eyes while giving her a three-day admin suspension for shooting Halstead's drop piece, but she was starting to piece together that he was also a little bit shaken by her rashness; as much as he could get shaken by anything.

She took in the silence of the guys in the IU as well as Erin's absence. She really needed to spend some QT with her friend, to include a fair amount of groveling. "You can carry on, Voight didn't fire me, I'm still in IU, even if I am being sent home for three days," she said with a sigh.

"You've got a visitor," Jay said, jerking his thumb toward the observation room.

She peered in, seeing Clarke sitting ramrod straight at the table, tapping his fingers against the top. She realized it was nerves, he was worrying about her. For the briefest of moments she wondered why he was there, why he was back from the cabin already; they weren't supposed to be back until that evening. But concern for his worry and a flood of emotions at seeing him sitting there made her forget all of that as she practically yanked the door off the hinges. "Jeff," she breathed, cut off as he was already on his feet closing the distance between the two of them.

"Cally, what happened?" he admonished, even as he wrapped her in his arms.

She tried to not wince as she felt the wound Zuzanna had given her open back up, though he immediately noticed the blood on her, and now his, shirt.

"You're bleeding, is this what Lindsay meant about stitches?" Clarke said, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

"I'll be fine," she said, yanking it back down and stepping back, "even better if we can get the hell out of here before Voight changes his mind on not really being mad at me."

"No argument here," he said, following her out as she walked through IU with only the briefest of nods to the other detectives as she gathered her things.

"Lakeshore or Chicago Med?" Clarke asked as soon as they were in his car.

Cailin raised her eyebrows. "Depends on what we are talking about. Cafeteria? Lakeshore, hands down. Trauma surgery and better nurses? Chicago Med."

Clarke let out a small growl. "I meant where do you want to go to get that looked at," he said, pointing.

"It's just a scratch, Jeff. I just need to not re-open it every five seconds," she protested. He gave her a look, leading her to say, "I assume you brought Shay back with you even though you came home early. Speaking of which, why did you come back early? I know nobody called you, because we've been elbows deep in Polish and Russians."

Clarke nodded, "yeah, Shay came back with us, we all drove together. Fish stopped biting and Severide was being whiny. None of that answers my question though, Cally."

She gave a half roll of her eyes, pulling out her phone and shooting off a quick text to her friend. The reply was almost immediate.

_Yeah, I can look, but what the hell, Cally? They were supposed to be taking you to breakfast! _

She smirked before saying, "head to Shay and Severide's. No hospital needed when you have Paramedic friends." Clarke's reply was another withering look, but he immediately change course in the requested direction.

* * *

"Eh, it isn't that deep," Shay said, surveying the wound. "Good thing you have good reflexes. It's just right where you bend, so you keep ripping it open. These should help," she said, applying several wound closures. "Which is too bad, because I was really wanting to use the skin stapler," she said, looking entirely disappointed.

Cailin yanked out of her reach. "I'll try harder next time, Shay," she quipped, looking slightly horrified.

Clarke remained standing against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders tense.

"What, you questioning my abilities, Clarke?" Shay asked, giving him a look.

Clarke worked his jaw, "I didn't say anything, Shay."

"You didn't need to, Mr. Simmering Rage. She is fine, cross my heart. I wouldn't say so if she wasn't, she's my girl too, Clarke," she replied, batting her eyelashes.

"Who is sitting right here," Cailin grumbled.

Both of them looked at her with wry grins. "You should be fine in a few days, just keep a watch, make sure it doesn't get infected," Shay said, patting Cally on the shoulder, "and maybe try to make sure she refrains from anything too strenuous, like no hot air balloon rides," she finished, giving Clarke a knowing look.

"Shay," he warned.

"What is strenuous about standing in an oversized basket, other than worrying about plunging to your death?" Cally asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

Her two companions both laughed, which made her confusion turn to frustration. "Glad you two had a great time away together. Can't wait to hear all about. But could it be over breakfast because I've been up for a million hours and don't remember the last time I ate."

Shay and Clarke exchanged a look. "I'm good, had some yogurt, but you two should go and then you should get some sleep, Cailin. Take care of her, Clarke, I'm holding you to it," Shay said with a smile.

* * *

They arrived back at the condo after breakfast, Cailin practically dead on her feet. "It's not up to military standards, Marine. Didn't really have a chance to clean," she said, shrugging out of her jacket and pulling off her shoes.

"It's fine, Cal, I wasn't expecting you to. I know this case has had you running ragged. Can't say I'm too bent over your admin leave," he said, dropping the stack of mail he had retrieved from the box before mirroring her actions.

"Shockingly, I'm not either. Next UC case I take, I am going to tell Voight to stick it if he expects me to work my regular job on top of it. We need to get Otis hired so he'll quit bitching about being shorthanded. At least Antonio will be back tomorrow," she said between yawns.

He smiled at her, moving closer and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I think I understood all that, but why don't you go hit the hay before you swallow your face?"

"Because maybe despite this crazy damn case, I still missed you and I know you are on shift tomorrow and given my three days off, I can sleep tomorrow, so I would rather spend time with you now," she rushed out, looking up at him, feeling the weight of the night, the case, the memories pressing down on her.

Clarke was torn. He knew she needed sleep, knew she hadn't been getting more than a few winks here and there since she had been on this damn case. But one look at those baby blues pleading with him and he was in trouble. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Just catch a nap now, Cal, I won't let you sleep too long, I promise and I won't go anywhere further than a run. It'll probably take that long for me to get through the mail," he said with a smile, gesturing at the stack.

"Very funny, babe. I would argue, but I'm too tired. Which I guess means you are right. You better wake me up though, and I want to hear all about whiny Severide when you do," she said, moving in for a kiss, both of them giving into it, until Clarke suddenly pulled away.

"Go, sleep, now, Cally," he ordered, his voice tinged with lust as he stepped back and pointed at the bedroom, willing himself to not follow her. Yep, he really needed to take her up to the cabin next time instead.

Cailin complied, though she griped all the way to the bedroom. But Clarke knew her well and she fell into almost a hibernation as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Wanting to give her a chance to rest, and to prevent himself from climbing into bed with her, Clarke decided to go for said run. Arriving back awhile later, he hit the shower after peeking in to see Cally burrowed beneath the covers, dead to the world.

He emerged from the shower and surveyed the condo, deciding what to tackle first. It wasn't awful, it was just clear they both had been busy. And so maybe Cailin wasn't as fastidious as he was, but then again, few people were. He gathered the trail of towels leading from the bathroom, throwing in a load of laundry before starting the dishwasher. The fridge was full, including a couple of trays marked for 51 and 102. He shook his head, wondering how she had found time in between working nights undercover and days in IU to cook for two firehouses. But that was Cally; for as much as she liked to portray the tough cop, she had a heart of gold for the people she held dear.

He finished straightening, picking up the stack of mail and settling in on the couch to go through it. Most of it was junk, as it usually was, hence why they weren't hypercritical about checking it that often. Paper bills that had already been paid online, a couple of magazines, flyers for events they would never be able to get to, a letter from Logan Correctional Center…

* * *

Clarke froze, placing the letter on the coffee table, carefully, as though it might detonate. Once again the timing just seemed uncanny. Except there was no way she could know what he was planning. He had just told Shay, the first person he had breathed a word to about it. Sure, he was planning on talking to Connor, but he hadn't yet. What the hell was she playing at now?

He forced his emotions under control walking to the desk to retrieve a letter opener to carefully slit the envelope open. He withdrew the paper, wondering what sort of Pandora's box he was opening. He held the paper between his thumb and index finger for the longest time, unwilling to unfold it. Clarke set it down on the coffee table in front of him, running a hand over his face. He had packed this away already, locked it up tight. He had moved on, he was happy with Cally in a way he had never known before. Which is why he squared his shoulders and grabbed the paper off the table, snapping it open. She wasn't not allowed to have any power over him anymore. His eyes scanned the tight, neat cursive on the page:

_Dear Jeff,  
_

_I've been working a program since I got here and I'm writing to do what I can to set right the harms that I did not just when we were together, but even after. I'm sure that you were aware that during the years we were together I was an active addict. I am not saying that makes everything I did okay; in no way does it make me any less responsible for my actions. I used booze and pills and sex because to try to fill the emptiness I felt inside._

_When we were together, I ignored you in favor of my friends, and I took you for granted. I withheld attention. I withheld affection. I withheld sex. I slept with other men to hurt you, to get back at you even though you never did anything wrong; and yet I always acted like I was the one that had done nothing wrong. I was inconsiderate, passive-aggressive, condescending, and cruel. I know that was wrong, and I'm sorry._

_I know when you came back after your first tour I called you crazy, among other things; but know you weren't crazy, I was. You deserved love, honor, commitment, and every other thing I vowed. __I couldn't give you those things because I was incapable of giving them. So __instead, you got anger, disloyalty, unfaithfulness and abandonment. You are worthy and deserving of love then and now, it was I that failed you._

_I failed you the entire time we were together, and even after. I wasn't honest that day I came to the firehouse. I heard you were getting close to someone, really close, and I was jealous. It wasn't that I wanted you; I just didn't want that detective to have you. I was so miserable and I couldn't stand the idea of you being happy, of feeling all the love that I couldn't. __Which is also why I let you try to take the fall for Brian. I knew you would be loyal, honorable, courageous, committed…you always were. __I know now she can give you what I never could._

_I hope that you'll accept my heartfelt regret for these and the unlisted harms that I did to you. I know there is nothing I can ever do to make things right. My hope is that you get the life you always wanted, deserved; for you two to be free and happy, together, Jeff. _

_Sincerely,_

_Lisa _

He carefully folded the letter again, sliding it back into the envelope and sitting it in the middle of the table. Clarke knew all about amends, had known plenty of people that had worked the program. He was certain this letter hadn't been easy for Lisa, but it did little to right the wrongs between them. She was correct in saying there was nothing she could do to make things right. At least he had the truth now, the truth he has always suspected. Except that didn't change anything, didn't stop the pain and heartache he had caused Cailin in those dark days after…He shook his head, before resting his elbows on his knees, lost in thought. Be free and happy, she had said; well he had been, since the day Cailin Callahan walked into his life.


	15. Building Fires

**Chapter 15: Building Fires**

_I was going to make y'all wait until I got 100 reviews, but I am a softie! Plus, you are the best readers, reviewers, supporters etc. The countdown to S3 is in full swing, but I am still not sure I am ready! If you are missing Cailin between my updates, you can catch her here and there in Ms Isabella's They Don't Know and Chicago Firestarter's Linseride series. _

* * *

"Hey, I thought you were going wake me," Cailin's voice, still tinged with sleep, sounded from the hallway.

Clarke looked up, taking in one of his shirts hanging off her shoulder, as she padded into the living room and flopped on the couch next to him.

"What time is it anyway?" she asked, before realizing Clarke was sitting stock still, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes a tangle of emotions. She dropped to her knees in front of him, wedging herself between the coffee table and the couch. "Jeff, what is it? What happened?"

Clarke shook his head, his nostrils flaring, unable to speak, jerking his head toward the coffee table. "That," he finally croaked out.

Cailin followed his gaze, the intensity in his eyes almost frightening. She spied the envelope, starting to reach for it when she took in the return address, Logan Correctional Institute, Lincoln, IL. The women's prison where Lisa was. Her mouth went dry. Hadn't she caused them enough heartache? "What does she want?" Cailin asked, her voice carefully controlled in a vain attempt to keep a lid on her emotions. No wonder he had looked so intense when she came in.

"To finish step nine," he said through clenched teeth.

It took Cailin a moment before she realized what Clarke was saying. "To make amends?" Cailin shook her head, climbing back on the couch. "How can she possibly think she can do that?"

He just gave the slightest of shrugs and shook his head, his eyes still stormy. "You should read it."

"You want me to read an amends letter from your ex-wi-"

"Cailin, please," he pleased, handing her the envelope.

She sighed, pulling the paper out, scanning the words, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the stark truths. "Jeff, I don't know what to say. I mean, she…" Cailin trailed off, at a loss. They had talked about whether Lisa had heard about her, if that hadn't been part of her showing back up. The theory proven, along with the one about Hayes. To see that she was owning up to her actions, it should probably mean something. Except it didn't stop Cailin from remembering the pain;and judging from the look on his face, Jeff was remembering it just as acutely.

They reached for each other at the same time, seeking shelter and peace; Clarke pulling Cally into his lap, each serving as an anchor and rock to the other, the letter fluttering to the floor as they took the last line to heart.

Tangled in each other and the sheets sometime later, Clarke laid a trail of kisses down Cailin's body, as much an excuse to check her wound as anything else. "It's fine, Jeff," she said, gently calling him out, knowing exactly what he was doing. "It had plenty of time to close up while I was playing Sleeping Beauty, not to mention Shay is damn good," she said, smiling down at him.

"Sometimes I think you know me a little too well, Callahan," he shot back, meeting her lips with his own.

* * *

Still worn from the case and Lisa's amends, both physically and emotionally, Cailin barely even registered when Clarke left for the 102 the next morning. She bolted awake mid-morning, thinking she was running late for a briefing before remembering she was on administrative leave. Cally knew why Voight wasn't willing to let her slide, he was still feeling the burn from Stillwell. And given her rash actions, it was probably best for her to walk a straight line for the next few weeks. Except she wanted to know what was happening with the case, to track down Alec and Mykola, to see them get their metal bracelets. She gave in and called Erin.

"Lindsay," her fellow detective and friend barked into the phone.

"It's Cally, I just wanted to check in. See how the briefing went. Is Frank out of ICU yet? What's the word on Alec and Mykola?"

Erin growled into the phone, "You are really bad at administrative leave, Callahan. Why are you calling me? Don't you have anything better to do?" She glared at Jay who was acting like he was scared of her driving while on the phone, like he was ever going to win any driving safety awards.

"Not really," Cailin admitted with a sigh.

"Clarke's Black Shift too, huh?" she replied with a laugh, ignoring Jay as he made a face.

"Good to know I am that transparent," Cailin retorted.

Jay wrestled the phone away from Erin, "Look, Callahan, finish your girl chat later before Erin takes out a pedestrian or runs us into a brick wall. Some of us have work to do." He stabbed the end call button and threw the phone on the dash.

"Stop being a jerk, Halstead," Erin warned, her eyes flashing, "you don't get to be jealous because other people are getting my time now."

"All your time," he muttered under his breath, grabbing for the handle as she took a corner unnecessarily hard.

* * *

By lunchtime, Cailin was almost bored enough to head down to visit her family, but decided to visit her second family instead.

She walked into 51 with the tray of food, realizing just how different it felt now. Sure Matt was still barking orders, but now it was at Candidate Nelson. Hermann was still ranting about something he had seen on the news while Cruz, Capp and Severide rolled their eyes and Mills watched bemusedly from the kitchen; but there were three other new faces in addition the candidate. As well as the more familiar face of Allison Rafferty who was, alongside Shay, trying to explain what half of the items on the baby registry Donna had sent over to Boden were.

"Should have gotten here earlier, I see," Cailin said to Mills, setting the pan on the counter.

"Cally, hey," he said, with a smile. "No worries, this can freeze and you know this crowd, we can always eat."

Cailin smiled at him before saying, "well, I know most of this crowd, Mills. How are they doing?"

Mills gave a slightly sad smile. "They're okay, still not the same…" he trailed off before shrugging, "but that's life I suppose."

"Callahan, when did you sneak in?" Hermann said, finally stopping his ranting long enough to notice she was there, "and why are you visiting us instead of Ugly?" he said, with an authentic grin.

"Somewhere between you ranting about the hike in St. Ignatius' tuition and your conspiracy theory on the welfare system. Cindy must have the patience of a saint," she said, going over and elbowing him slightly, before giving him a hug.

"How's the wound?" Severide asked gesturing to her stomach. Matt's head snapped up, giving his friend a look.

"It is fine, Severide. Now who blabbed, Shay or Lindsay?" she said, giving him a mock glare and waving Matt off.

"Both. You know Shay can't keep a secret and Erin was a little worried about you. Said you had to fire your weapon. Take it you're on leave?"

Cailin nodded, "yep, three days. And I barely grazed the bitch, this probably hurt more," she said, briefly showing the angry red line held together by Shay's careful butterfly bandaging. "I just feel bad about the monkey."

"What about a monkey?" Cruz asked, looking slightly confused.

"Some exotic animals got loose, one of them was about to leap on Ruzek and I took it out," she explained, sliding out a chair and sitting next to Matt. They all realized the four new guys were staring at Cally with their mouths hanging open.

"Detective Callahan is a member of the Intelligence Unit over at the 21st Precinct. Lieutenant Casey and she are lifelong friends. Her father was a Deputy Commissioner and two of her brothers are also with CFD," Boden explained, before giving her a pat on the shoulder and heading to his office.

"A cop, huh, does that mean you carry a gun?" one of the guys asked with an all too familiar gleam in his eye. She merely nodded as the guy continued, "and handcuffs?" He elbowed the Squad sitting next to him.

The rest of 51 seemed to sense what was about to happen; Hermann shook his head, already walking away, Mills mirroring the action as he stirred his pot of stew. Severide snorted, muttering "good luck, Davis" right as the newbie continued, "so what do I got to do to see them?" Shay and Rafferty made a strangled noise as Cruz made a sign of the cross. Matt clamped a hand on her shoulder, expecting that she was going to jump out of her chair and throttle Davis.

Cailin brushed him off, "if you plan on breaking the law, I would be more than happy to show them to you, Davis, was it?" she said, a smile painted on her face that belied the ice in her eyes.

"Oh, Shay, I think she might be more your type," the new Squad guy quipped, earning a swat on the back of his head from Severide. "Don't be an idiot, Gilardi, she's with Lieutenant Clarke; who used to have your spot, wish he still did."

"Wait, the dude that took the fall for his chick? I thought she went to prison," Davis replied with a another ill-advised leer at Cally, "though I suppose if anyone could beat a wrap, it would be a cop."

This is what brought Cailin out of her chair, knocking it over as she stood up with such force, vaulting toward Davis, stopped only by Severide stepping in between them and Casey pulling her back.

"Maybe you should go, Callahan," Severide said, his eyes telling her it wasn't a suggestion.

"I'll walk you out, I need some air that hasn't been contaminated by idiots," Shay said, rushing up and grabbing her elbow.

Realizing that everyone was staring made Cailin start to blush and she easily let Shay pull her away, barely shooting a look at Mills as he called out, "thanks for the food."

"You wanna tell me why Dumbass Davis can make stupid handcuff statements and you manage to smile at him but one mention of Voldemort and you turn into an Olympic hurdler?" Shay asked as they made their way outside.

Cailin chewed her lip, not wanting to air dirty laundry even to one of their best friends. But it wasn't like it was a secret. "Lisa sent Jeff a letter."

"What does that bitch want now?" Shay said, already going on the defensive.

Cailin let out a sigh. "Supposedly to make amends, she's working a 'program'," she replied with angry air quotes, "but fat lot of good it does except to drag up old crap."

Shay studied her carefully. "Sweetie, you aren't afraid of that crazy woman still having a hold on Clarke, are you? Because I can tell you, that is so not the case." From the look in Cally's eyes, she could tell at least a small part of her friend was worrying about exactly that. Shay wished Clarke would just hurry up and propose already, because she was really bad at keeping stuff like this a secret. "You gotta trust me on this one, okay?"

"I know, I'm being stupid," Cailin replied, playing with the zipper on her jacket. "Anyway, I should go," she said, pulling out her buzzing phone.

"Later, girl," Shay called after her.

* * *

"We got a line one of them," Erin's voice said over the line.

"Alec or Mykola?" Cailin asked with a sigh, feeling left out.

"Alec, but hopefully he'll be singing like a bird as soon as we bring him in and get him in the cage. Just thought you should know, Cally, even though Voight told me not to call you."

Cailin could practically hear the tinkling laugh in her voice. "Yes, because you always do everything Hank Voight tells you to. Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem, now please go have some fun on your two days off so I can be insanely jealous and live vicariously through you."

Cailin wanted to do as Erin had bid, however it was a little difficult considering all her friends were working.

Finally, knowing she could at least score a free meal and some left overs, she headed down to Oak Forest to visit her mother, now ensconced at Coleman's house. The visit was nice enough, though rambunctious, with her nieces and nephews fighting for her time, Cole giving her weird looks all night and her mother constantly harping on her while she held baby Conrad. She externally rolled her eyes, while her internal monologue more ran along the lines of vowing to not name her children any names that started with C.


	16. Another Log on the Fire

**Chapter 16: Another Log on the Fire**

_One week until Season 3 and I have my fears over who doesn't 'REPORT!' and got my hopes dashed when JH mentioned he was stuck under contract and so we might not ever see a return of Clarke. _

_So to combat that, a happy chapter that supports why I write FF…because things turn out the way I want them to! :) Now support the other part of why I do this and **review, y'all!**_

* * *

The best part of visiting her family with a new baby in the house was that she was back early enough to be up with a full spread ready when Clarke walked in the door after shift the next morning. "Hope you aren't too exhausted to eat," she called from the kitchen when she heard the front door open.

He grinned at her from the doorway, "impossibly slow shift, so not at all; who else did you invite to breakfast, Callahan?"

"What the hell else am I supposed to do with three days off, Clarke?" she asked with a smile, handing him a plate piled high with food.

He caught her wrist pulling her into his lap, "I might have a couple of ideas. You still got that so-called uniform?"

"After you eat, cowboy, I'm not letting this go to waste," she replied, though she was tempted to give in to his ministrations.

"Actually I do have another idea for today," Clarke said as they were eating.

Cally looked at him, "I'm not putting that damn corset back on voluntarily, babe."

He pursed his lips at her, "seriously, I was thinking maybe we could call Goodwill and donate some of this stuff," he remarked, gesturing around.

"Uh-huh and then what are we supposed to do?" she said, looking around.

He cocked an eyebrow, "Cally, we are adults with steady incomes, we can buy new stuff. Wouldn't you want to do that anyway when we get our own place?"

She gave him a look and a half-smirk, "oh, are we still doing that?"

"Cailin," he growled warningly, "we've both been busy, it isn't because I don't want to. Unless you don't want to."

Cailin wondered if she was imagining it or if his tone was tinged with a certain amount of desperation. She did want them to get their own place; like Gabby, she didn't like being in a place bearing so many markings of the woman before her. Hell, even Voight had caught her looking up real estate listings, but something about tangible property made this real. Very, very real.

Clarke studied Cally from across the table, not moving a muscle. He didn't want to influence her answer in any way, but he had to hope she hadn't changed her mind. Especially not after having Connor Callahan schlep it all the way up to Roger's Park the day before. He just had to get through the next two days. That was all. He could do it. Especially if she said…

"Of course I still want us to get our own place, Jeff, but we would need to get your condo ready to go on the market and," she paused, looking around, "well, I guess I see your point. Maybe we should call Goodwill."

Clarke tried to not breathe out a sigh of relief, covering it with a grin and coming over to kiss her on the head. "Sounds great. Why don't you look up their number while I try to make heads or tails of your mess in here?"

"You don't get to complain, Mr. Clean Plate Club," she smiled at him, ducking out of the way of his snap of the towel.

* * *

They spent the next two days sorting through the contents of the condo, though luckily Lisa's personal effects had long since been at her sister's. But most of the overstuffed, country decor was hauled away and headed for another life. Which meant they were left with a lot of open space.

"So I feel like we might need to go furniture shopping," Cally quipped as they sat on the floor of the mostly empty living room, sharing a pizza and a six-pack.

Clarke gave her a half-smile, "we're not just going with a minimalist theme? Aren't real estate agents always going on about de-cluttering?"

"I don't think we were supposed to make it look like it was a crash pad though, Jeff; and I haven't really spent a lot of time talking to real estate agents. Maybe this is one now," she said, making a face as she reached for her phone. "Callahan."

"We got Mykola. Full briefing up in IU at 11 am, blondie," came Voight's voice.

"Sure thing, boss-" she started to say before realizing he had already hung up. She noticed Clarke looking at her with a slightly downtrodden expression. "What?"

"You have to go in, don't you?" he asked, trying to not sound disappointed, knowing Cally had been in a state with even just three days of leave.

Cailin couldn't help but grin as she stuck a hand out toward him to help him up. "Yeah, tomorrow at 11 am. Now how about I go show you how glad I am you kept your bachelor pad bed in storage?" she grinned at him wickedly.

* * *

Cally was still lounging in bed with a cup of coffee as Clarke hauled ass out the door in the morning for Roger's Park; teasing her for being lazy, knowing she was anything but. It was only on her way back to bed with a coffee refill that she saw the morning sunlight catch something on Clarke's nightstand. His challenge coin, he never went on shift without it; it was his talisman, his rabbit's foot, like her Saint Michael statue.

She looked at the clock, calculating the round trip and if it would have her running late or not. Cally had a brief text conversation with Erin, begging her to cover if she didn't get there in time for the briefing. After a little ribbing, her friend acquiesced.

Cailin pulled up in front of the station, happy to see Truck 25 still in its bay, realizing the coin was as much her talisman as it was Jeff's. Safe, she needed him safe because he kept her grounded, he was her reason for being.

"Hey guys," she said, walking into the firehouse, greeting his team. Part of her had hoped he would stay back at 51 after everything that had happened with the explosion; though even beyond that, she felt better about 'her guys' watching his six and vice versa. But, Cailin knew how important his career was to him. Like hers, it had kept him going when he had nothing else.

"Detective," they greeted her in their overly formal way.

"Cally," came a cheery, familiar voice from practically inside the Engine where Gabby was doing inventory. She hopped down, giving her friend a hug. "What brings you around?"

"Clarke just forgot something, thought I'd drop it off on my way in. How was New York?" she asked, returning Gabby's enthusiastic hug. Hopefully their time away had helped to heal some the fractures between her and Matt.

"Must be important to traipse up here. He's in his quarters, bitching about paperwork," Gabby said with an eye roll.

Cally let out a snort, "I'm sure you've heard more than enough about CFD paperwork."

Gabby laughed heartily. "Girl, you know it. Hey, are you free next week? If the rest of our schedules align and Matt and I still need to have you two over for dinner."

Cailin mentally scrolled through her schedule before excitedly nodding, "yeah, should work and it sounds great, you can catch me up on the big NYC engagement party."

Gabby smiled broadly, giving her friend a squeeze on the arm, "great. It is really nice to see you, Cally."

"You too, Gabby," Cailin replied, wondering if she caught a hint of wistfulness in her friend's tone. It had been a long, tough summer for everyone, but especially Matt and Gabby. She was glad they were both mostly mended and actively in wedding planning mode. She had always known Matt was the settling down type and the pair deserved a happily ever after.

* * *

Cailin walked past the empty mess hall to Clarke's quarters, knocking on the door before she entered. Jeff was bent over his desk, concentrating on the hated paperwork. "Forget something?" she asked, holding up his coin between her thumb and forefinger.

"How do you know I wasn't just trying to get you to stop by?" he said, rising and taking it from her, pulling her to him.

"Because if you wanted me to stop by, you would just tell me to, Clarke," she said with a smirk.

He raised his eyebrows, "think you know me so well, Callahan?" He kissed her and then said, "since you're already up here, why don't I cook us some breakfast?"

"Shouldn't Candidate Dawson being doing that?" Cally teased.

"She already did for the crew, I was too busy with paperwork. Come on, I make a mean omelet." He gave her a heated look, knowing full well those were the words he said to her right before the first time they slept together.

"That you do," she replied as she cocked an eyebrow, "but I'm not going at it with you in the gear room."

"Very funny, come on, to the kitchen," he stressed, though he still let his hand linger on her lower back.

* * *

"You cook for me on your off days, you really shouldn't do it while you're working," she said, watching him move around the kitchen, as she sat on top of the counter.

"And you cook dinner for my entire crew and 51's on your off days, so let me win on some folded eggs, babe," he said, getting out ingredients. "Can you grab me that pepper?" he asked, pointing behind where she was sitting.

She turned, stretching to reach for it and when she turned back around she saw Clarke hunched down on the ground. At first she though he was tying his boot, before realizing he was looking up. "Uh, Jeff?" she asked, hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement just outside the glass, turning and catching sight of Gabby ducking. She turned back to where he was, yep, still on one knee, still looking up at her. Her heart started pounding.

"I once said that 51 saved my life and you once told me I had saved yours. I want to amend my previous statement, 51 saved my life, but you gave me a life worth living and so I was hoping that you, Cailin Marie Callahan, would at least considering being my wife?"

She realized he had a ring between his finger and thumb, a sapphire, her favorite stone, on an antique filigree band. "You left it on purpose?" she said, slightly shocked and questioningly.

"I left it on purpose," he replied, nodding, "Now could you give me an answer before this frying pan catches on fire and I become the laughingstock of CFD for burning down my own fire station?"

Cailin could only nod, still in shock, even as he stood, sliding the ring on her finger and moving in for a kiss. She complied, happily, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him towards her as he nearly laid her back on the counter top. Her phone started buzzing. Cally worked to extract it from her pocket, finally pulling it out and seeing the text from Gabby: _Congrats, need me to guard the gear room? xo_ "You told Gabby?" she squeaked out.

Clarke smiled at her broadly, "I told the whole house, how do you think I kept them out of here?"

"Good thing I said yes," Cailin laughed.

"Wasn't ever a doubt," he retorted.

"Don't get too cocky, cowboy."

* * *

"Why today? This isn't about the letter, right?" she asked, digging into the omelet.

Clarke gave her a knowing look, "October 1st, a year ago today was the first day I met you."

"How did you know that or remember that? Has it only been a year?" she replied. Thinking back, she couldn't even recall the date; all she remembered was being struck with…"the challenge coin," she said with a slightly wistful smile.

Clarke nodded, not saying anything, studying her as she sat across from him, chewing on her food.

She hooked her leg around his under the table, trying to play cool, despite now being engaged, as he waved his waiting crew back into the mess hall. "Don't ever let anyone tell you Marines aren't romantic, Clarke."

"Of course we are, we're gentlemen," he smirked. It was the truth, even more so in his efforts with Cailin. He knew she had thrown herself into the job, had to hide her relationship with Jimmy, her previous engagement having only been as long as it took a judge to waive the waiting period on the marriage license. She hadn't ever really been courted, and he had done his best to change that; at least as much as she would allow him to. Hence his rather understated proposal, especially compared to the outrageous ideas Shay had concocted for him. Frankly he was surprised Shay had been able to keep it a secret, but after he had talked to Connor the shift before, he knew he had to do something fast, before the Callahan family gossip got back to Cally.

Connor had nearly laughed Clarke out of the station when he asked for his permission to propose. "If Pops were still around he would be doing the same thing. My sister isn't really one for tradition, Marine, in case you hadn't caught on."

The station chief suddenly appeared at the table, offering the couple his congratulations as he apologized for being shorthanded and not able to let Clarke go. Cailin waved him off, knowing she had to get to work as well. "Speaking of which, I gotta go, Erin's covering for me, but Voight will have my ass if I'm not at the briefing."

"Feel free to tell him where to stick it, babe," Clarke said as he walked her out, "and though I know you want to be back at work, know I would much rather us be spending the day together."

"I think you've done more than enough today, Jeff," she replied, giving him one more long kiss.


	17. Fire in the Hole

**Chapter 17: Fire in the Hole**

_Before everything changes, and everything is as it is, just wanted to let y'all know how much I have loved writing in this fandom and I hope to continue, no matter who does or does not "REPORT!" Reviews always welcome! 3 each and everyone one of you! _

* * *

"Oh look who finally decided to show up. Nice of you to grace us with your presence, sunshine," Voight grumbled as Cailin made her way into IU.

"I brought donuts," she replied, setting them on the corner of her desk as she tried to avoid his glare, "and it is 11:07!"

Voight narrowed his eyes at her, "don't try my patience, Callahan, or I'll send you right back out on leave."

She squirmed under his glare until Antonio rescued her. "Come off it, Hank, you were just saying the past three days felt like forever."

"Back to work, hope whatever made you late was important, Callahan," he said, his eyes settling on her for a long beat before he turned back to the boards.

"Donuts are very important," Ruzek replied, his mouth stuffed full of a cruller.

Cally snorted in reply, thinking if only they knew. Some detectives they were, she had left her ring on, and it was taking everything in her power to pay attention to Voight's rundown and not stare down at the new weight on her left hand.

It was, of course, Erin who caught on first; her eyes taking in the light glinting off of the metal on Cally's left hand. She tried to catch the other woman's eyes, but Cally was far more intent on voicing her opinion that they shouldn't let the DA cut any deals with anyone from the Krok. Voight was in agreement, but couldn't help but be slightly amused at Cally's impassioned ranting.

Finally after watching her throwing up her hands and saying "but what do I know?", Erin couldn't take it any more. "Hold up, Callahan, what the hell is that?"

"What's what?" Cailin replied, trying to look innocent.

"Is that what you had to go do this morning?" Her hazel gaze bore down on her friend, rooting her to the spot.

"Maybe..." Cally mumbled, suddenly entranced with the floor tiles.

"Maybe, all you can say is 'maybe'?" Erin looked at her and shook her head.

"When either of you ladies," Voight interrupted, clearing his throat, "wanna fill the rest of us in, by all means, feel free."

Erin shot her friend a look before sliding up to sit on the top of her desk. Leaving Cailin wanting to crawl under it as the brunette detective loudly said, "Callahan has an announcement."

"Callahan has no such thing," Cailin hissed, looking at Antonio for help, though he just leaned back and said, "well you've got my attention."

"It's nothing, you guys, really. I am sorry I was late, it won't happen again," she said, feeling her face flush.

"Oh come off it!" Erin admonished. She rolled her eyes before breaking into a full dimpled grin, "Callahan was late because she was too busy getting engaged."

Voight's eyes slid from his one female detective to another. "Marine couldn't do it on your three days off?" he replied, but his smile belied his words. "I'll be sure to remove the demerit from your file. Though I better not see one damn bridal magazine up here, Callahan."

Cally felt her face turn red as everyone stared at her. "You won't, sir, promise."

It was Antonio who spoke up next, "quit playing it so cool, Callahan. This is good news, congrats." He came from behind his desk, pulling her into a hug and while Cailin briefly stiffened, she had a feeling she better get used to it.

The rest of the team offered up their well wishes, Erin demanding a full debriefing at Molly's ASAP before Voight hustled them back to the task at hand.

Molly's, Cally thought, the rest of the gang, assuming all of 51 didn't already know, she would have to go through this again with them. And her family. Good God, her mother would be beside herself.

"It is good news, right?" Antonio asked, taking in Cally's pallor.

She shook her head, "yeah, of course, it's just...my family and 51, telling them, it's going to be..." she trailed off, "I just didn't have to deal with ths before..."

He let out a small laugh, lightly hip checking her. "You've been through worse, Callahan, including getting shot. I think you can handle announcing your engagement."

"When you put it that way, Dawson. Now come on, I want a run at Mykola."

* * *

The younger Dawson was peppering her lieutenant with a stream of questions. "When did you know? How could you be sure she would come up here? Do you think you'll have a big wedding? Does her family know? Does Matt know? Can I tell him or should I let Cally?"

"Take a breath, Canidate, or I'll make you run drills," Clarke teased. Gabby held her ground, waiting for answers. "Fine. I know she would come up because I know her, we haven't gotten to any planning yet, you just saw me ask her, Dawson. I did talk to Connor last shift, so I'm sure her family knows or will soon. I also don't know about anybody else, with the exception of Shay."

Gabby's eyes grew wider and she looked slightly wounded. "You told Leslie Shay and you didn't tell me? We're in the same house, Clarke!" Gabby caught one of the other guys glowering at them as she admonished him, quickly she worked to cover, "I mean Lieutenant, sir. No disrespect meant." She hated how stiff and by the book this house was.

Clarke waited until the other man wandered off before giving Gabby a small smile, "none taken, candidate. But for someone planning her own wedding, you seem awfully interested in mine." He hoped his tone was light, but his meaning was sincere. He knew Gabby had tried to keep that part of her life out of the station, but he had overheard more than a few phone calls between her and Shay or Casey, and those were mild compared to the impassioned rapid-fire conversations in Spanish between Gabby and her mother.

"Maybe because I'm not planing one," she muttered under her breath before looking up with a smile. "I'm just excited and happy for you both, that's all. When Cally first got here and then after," she shrugged, "you know, she seemed lost and broken. But ever since that day you pulled her out of that bathroom...well, Shay and I saw it right away."

"Good to know, Dawson, now how about you go scrub the bathroom before Johnson goes complaining to the Chief about us?"

"On it, Lieutenant," Gabby said with a salute, before rushing away with a big smile. Though it faded as she scrubbed at the tiles in the shower stall. Not because she was doing scut work, every candidate had to do scut work, but because Clarke was right, she felt more excitement over watching him propose to Cally than she did about her own impending nuptials.

Things with Matt had been rocky, since his first accident really; the effects of his second head trauma magnified after the building collapse. Yet she had been so eager to say yes to him, had been struck terrified that she wouldn't ever get the chance to say yes to him on that dark day. She had been willing to put up with all the setbacks on his long road to recovery. Things had been better lately, he was his old charming self the entire time they were in New York, taking her crazy Dominican family in stride.

In eight months, she would be Mrs. Matthew Casey, so why wasn't she over the moon? Everything in her life was falling into place, she was getting everything she wanted. Or at least everything she thought she did. It was probably just nerves, and stress, and her mother, who was more a Bridezilla than she was. That had to be it, right?

* * *

Cailin had to wait for her run at Mykola, Voight wanting them to track down the names they had gotten from Zuzanna, Ivan and, the just released from the hospital, Frank. A lot of low-level thugs, but he was taking any notches on his bedpost that he could get. Especially since Stillwater was sniffing around, wondering why Detective Callahan hadn't been given a longer administrative leave. Voight not so kindly told him to quit telling him how to run his department, as well as informing him where he could stick it; but Stillwell wasn't willing to give up that easily. Voight just wished he could get something concrete on the guy to give up to McCarthy, but so far it hadn't happened; at least not in a way that still kept his own nose clean and the Brass out of the IU.

While Voight went MIA and they dealt with knocking down doors and hauling in the Eurotrash, Cailin felt herself growing restless. It didn't help that they had stretched their time with Alec & Mykola in the IU cages to its limit. HQ wanted to know why the hell the two hadn't been perp walked through the media frenzy waiting outside central booking. Everyone had taken a run at the pair, using every trick in the book, all while desperately trying to keep the case out of the clutches of the Feds. Alec finally lawyered up, but Ruzek and Olinsky were still spending some QT with him below. Lindsay and Halstead were trying to keep Commander Perry distracted when Cailin decided she wanted one last shot with Mykola. Dawson followed her in to the interview room they had stuck him in to give Olinsky and Ruzek a little more privacy, but didn't say anything as he leaned against the wall, letting the blonde detective sit across from him, opening a file folder.

"Interesting read here, Mykola. You've certainly made the name for yourself in Chicago."

The man just stared at her, his brown eyes hooded and vacant. "But I don't really want to talk about Chicago, we already have you dead to rights on all that. Especially since my fellow detectives are downstairs with Alec singing like a nightingale. No. I would rather talk about New York. Nice place, the Big Apple." Cailin paused for his reaction, acutely aware of Antonio's curiosity. "Can't say I ever got out to Brighton Beach much, though."

Mykola continued to stare at her, his eyes taking in her every feature. It sent chills down Cailin's spine, but she didn't avert her gaze, raising her chin a fraction of an inch, challenging him.

He finally answered, "I don't much either. That is where my wife lives." A wicked grin spread across his face, gone the instant it formed.

Cailin's stomach rolled, but at least he had said something. She glanced briefly back at Antonio, who was still standing, arms tossed over his chest. He raised his eyebrows slightly. She took it as a sign to continue. "So where do you spend most of your time then?"

"Here and there, in the company of beautiful women, mostly."

"How nice for you," Cally quipped, "probably not as much for them," she said, looking at him pointedly.

"I don't get many complaints," he leered, reaching forward and attempting to stroke her hand. She drew it back, resisting the urge to stab it with the pen in her other hand. Antonio stepped forward, giving Mykola a warning look.

"Probably because you drug most of your companions, isn't that right, Mykola?" Cailin pressed, though she leaned back in her chair away from him, the briefest of touches from him bringing back too many memories of Nansenko. Which was exacerbated by that man's next words.

"I help many young women find men who will take care of them; rich men, powerful men. So as I said, not many complaints, some of them just need a little…guidance." A light gleamed in his eyes as another slow smile spread across his face, though he showed no teeth.

Cailin could practically feel the world stop, the air growing heavy as he looked at her.

"Take this one pretty little blonde, like a, what is that phrase, girl next door? I had a buyer all ready for her, one of those oil princes. Wanted an American cheerleader type. He was very hard to please; this one too trashy, that one too fat. Finally, I find the perfect girl, maybe a little too old, but looks young enough; innocent, yet feisty. Too bad she turned out to be nothing more than a filthy pig." He spat the last work at her, the wad of saliva hitting her as she vaulted over the table at him, her hands going around his neck, both them and his chair tipping backwards to the floor.

Antonio was on them both in a second, forcibly ripping Cailin off of Mykola, who was laughing at the woman's fury despite being stuck on his back like a handcuffed turtle. "Still feisty, I see, New York City cop. Too bad about Nansenko…and your partner."

Cailin struggled to break free of Antonio's grip, but he kept his hand clamped tightly around her bicep, though he didn't prevent her from landing a swift kick to the man's side, silencing his laughing and leaving him gasping for air.

Antonio wrenched her back, saying, "that's enough, Callahan."

"Enough? Are you kidding me, Dawson, he just said-" Cailin shot back, not believing he was stopping her. Wasn't this the point of IU, make them talk, no matter what? Not to mention the piece of crap had just admitted he had someone lined up to **buy** her.

"I heard what he said and I am sure Voight will also be very interested in it, so why don't you go take a breather while I go tell him about it?" Antonio all but shoved her out the door, slamming it behind them as he told Erin to sit on Cally if she had to to keep her out of the room.

"I take it that didn't go well?" Erin said, giving her friend a look as she paced back and forth in front of the desks.

Cailin chewed on her thumbnail before answering, "depends on your perspective, I suppose. At least I'm not some sex slave to a Saudi Prince."

"Why do I get the feeling we have even more to talk about at Molly's other than you getting engaged?" Erin retorted.

Cailin's head shot up, engaged? Oh right, she was engaged. She had fallen down the rabbit hole of memories. The weight of the sapphire ring on her hand broke her back to the present, her phone buzzing in her pocket. A text from Jeff. Her fiancé.

Voight and Dawson came storming back through IU, Olinsky close behind them. They went straight to the room where Mykola was still stuck on his back, dragging him out and down in the direction of the cages, Voight pausing briefly to snap, "Callahan, get the hell out of here and go home. Now!"


	18. Hang Fire

**Chapter Eighteen: Hang Fire**

_Some mostly happy domesticity, where I ignore what is happening with the actual show. Because denial lives on strong in fan fiction and there's tons of sand left!_

* * *

Cailin did as she had been ordered. She had been engaged for 33 hours and hadn't been home. Jeff had left her plenty of messages; from his shift and after, letting her know all was well on his front and that dinner was waiting on her whenever she got home.

Less than two days in and she was already the world's worst fiancée. And daughter/sister/friend if you included all the other voice mails and texts she was ignoring. Dinner was waiting, but Jeff wasn't, a scrawled note saying Mills had invited him to shoot some pool and he wouldn't be out late. She picked briefly at the plate, her exhaustion greater than her appetite, heading to a bed that was emptier and colder than she would have liked after her face off with Mykola. Which is probably what sparked the nightmare she was in the throes of when Clarke let himself into the condo a bit later, practically flying down the hallway and into the bedroom when he heard the sounds of a struggle.

"Cailin, it's okay, it's just a nightmare," he said, reaching for her foot like she was a soldier at Camp Baharia.

She bolted upright, scrambling as though trying to locate her service weapon, which was locked in the gun safe like every night. "Damn it, Jeff," she swore, taking in his form at the end of the bed.

"Rough day?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, far more worried than offended. The best thing about them being together was keeping the nightmares and beasts at bay, so for her to be slipping back into them must mean something was up.

Cally scratched at her head before rubbing her eyes, "sorry, not exactly the paragon of sexy fiancee to come home to, huh?"

The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight smile, even as his gaze remained serious and weighted on hers. "Given that you didn't actually shoot me, I'm going with still pretty sexy." He divested himself of his clothing, sliding in next to her under the covers, wrapping his arm around her. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked after she snuggled against his side.

"Not yet," she replied, "I just need our bubble for a bit."

"Then consider us quarantined," he replied, kissing her on top of her head and pulling her closer.

* * *

Clarke could tell by the way she didn't completely relax into his arms that Cailin was still ruminating over something, if the nightmare he had walked in on hadn't been enough. He responded to her queries about Mills and his latest shift, trying to keep things light, deciding to avoid bringing up Gabby's seemingly mixed reaction. And then he stayed quiet, letting her work through whatever it was that was weighing on her, she had certainly done it enough for him. There had been plenty of shifts he had come home with a bad scene following behind him and she would take one look at him and know whether it was time to grab the coffee pot or the whiskey bottle, knowing when to keep her distance or when he needed the comfort of her arms around him; sitting next to him in silence until he was ready to either set it aside or be out with it. He was more than willing to return the favor.

Cailin could feel the tension remaining despite Clarke's strong arms around her. She listened as he caught her up on the goings on over the past day and a half, though she could tell he was holding slightly back. Which she hated, part of the reason she had fallen in love with him was that he didn't treat her like something about to break, even when she close to doing so. She stayed lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat even after he fell silent. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, more it filled the room around them with the anxiety that was clearly emanating off of Clarke. She let out a sigh, moving out of his arms and flopping on her back, before letting out a frustrated, "I'm sorry, Jeff. It's this damn case."

"Hey, Cal, it's fine. It's not like I don't bring home my bad days with me, we're not robots," he replied, turning to look at her, stopping himself from reaching out for her as she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands as though she was having to physically hold back tears. "Talk to me, Cailin," he pressed, his concern morphing into full worry.

She removed her hands, but remained staring up at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "Just another day in IU; taking out some Eastern European mobsters, knocking pieces of scum around in the cages, finding out how close I was to being sold to a Saudi Prince, no big deal."

"Come again?" Clarke replied, bolting upright, though forcing his tone to remain calm.

"Apparently Nansenko was supplying Mykola with girls for more than just parties and upscale brothels. Apparently your girl next door girlfriend could have fetched quite the sum, or at least I could have when I could still pass for the cheerleader type." She let out a long breath, throwing her arms over her eyes, wondering why it was still weighing on her so much.

Clarke couldn't take it, the frustration and pain practically radiating off Cally's body. He gently, but firmly, pulled her arms away from her face and slid her onto his lap. "Please tell me that asshole was one of the pieces of scum being knocked around in the cage," he said, his anger clear in his voice.

Cailin nodded, "yeah, or at least they were headed that way after Antonio dragged me off of him." She gave him a wry smile, "pretty sure I never was the cheerleader type."

He let out a noise between a grunt and a laugh. "Wouldn't want you any other way, Callahan. And it's fiancée by the way," he added, briefly spinning her ring around her finger before threading his fingers through hers.

"You still sticking to that even after finding out I was almost sold as a sex slave?" she squeezed his hand, a false smile on her face, her eyes giving away her worry.

"There's a hell of a lot worse in my past, Cally and you love me, and not in spite of it, so yeah, I'm sticking to it. Would marry you tomorrow except your family would kill me and I think you deserve an actual wedding."

His statement turned her smile genuine. "Oh what, the big bad Marine is afraid of a couple of mick's from Mount Greenwood? Need I remind you of your attempted takedown of an armed gang with a baseball bat, Jeff?"

"They don't scare me, Callahan, couple of Skippers, a contractor, a priest and a mechanic; I think I can take them," he teased back, "it's your mother I'm terrified of."

"You should probably stay that way, she filled my voicemail over the past 36 hours. I can't believe you tried to ask Connor permission, by the way. I would be offended, but it's kinda cute," she said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against his.

He narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't really going for cute, Cally," he said, before giving her a smirk and flipping her onto her back and showing her everything but cute.

"So if you would marry me tomorrow, I'm guessing you don't want a big USMC wedding then, huh?" Cailin asked later, once again settled on Clarke's chest, though completely relaxed this time.

"I'm not really a Marine anymore," he replied, enjoying her warm body draped across him. He felt her shift, opening his eyes and seeing the look she was giving him."Cut me some slack, Callahan. You know what I mean."

"This is a second go around for both of us, Jeff, and neither of us really got what we wanted the first time, right? So I was just asking, wanted to make sure you didn't want something like your buddy's wedding in California." She gave a slight shrug, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

Clarke couldn't help but smile at her slight discomfort, the exact opposite of most recently engaged women. He kissed the top of her head saying, "babe, he's still active in the Marines. I'm a firefighter, I met you as firefighter, so we should have a CFD wedding."

"Just not at a firehouse while everyone is on shift, please," she quipped with dark humor.

"I am pretty sure Boden has banned firehouse weddings and if he hasn't, he should," Clarke replied.

"Agreed," Cailin said, before yawning and nuzzling his neck saying, "sweet dreams, Clarke," as she drifted off into a restful slumber.

* * *

"What's this?" Cailin asked the next morning, picking up the envelope addressed to her that Clarke had leaned against her coffee cup while she was getting ready. "Please tell me my mother did not send over invitation samples already because I didn't freaking call her back!"

"It is an actual invitation, Cal, to the 100 Club awards banquet. Was in that same mountain of mail as-" Clarke broke off, turning back to the stove.

Cailin ignored where he was going, sipping on her coffee as she read the enclosed details. Awards ceremony next week at City Hall during the day, dress uniform required; by invitation only banquet that evening, black tie required. "So why did we get an invite to the dinner?" she asked, setting it on the counter.

Clarke turned slightly, cocking an eyebrow, "Boden's wedding, scrap fire turned big, building went boom, any of this ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, so you ran back into a burning building multiple times to save your brethren. But why did I get one? I thought only cops who managed to take down roving gangs without force got invited to this," she replied.

"You were at that fire too and did you forget about that time back in May when you got shot protecting a child and trying to protect your fellow officers? I knew they should have let you keep that bullet they dug out of you."

"I tried, they kept saying it was a bio-hazard," she shot back with a shrug before looking slightly panicked, "damn, I don't have anything to wear."

He couldn't help but laugh, "I think you being up in IU with Erin is turning you into a girl, babe. Just buy something."

"Says the could be a GQ model, you could buy a tux off the street and look amazing," Cailin replied, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Clarke drew her in for a slightly longer kiss before goosing her. "Flattery will get you everywhere and breakfast. Sit and eat before you go knocking anyone around in the cages."

She complied with a laugh, sliding into a chair at the table. "Like Voight lets me down in the cages," she said digging in.

"Probably for the best," he teased, sitting across from her, watching as she picked up her buzzing phone, rejecting another call. "Your mother again?"

"Text from Matt, call from Gabby," she said, feeling slightly guilty for ignoring her friends and family.

Clarke nodded, chewing carefully as he thought about his candidate's reaction. "Maybe you and Gabby could go dress shopping this weekend, doesn't she have practice at that sort of thing?" He watched as Cailin's eyes grew wide and slightly wild. "For the banquet," he tacked on, "don't look so panicked, Cal." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, "you do want to do this, right? You didn't just say yes to me because of…" he trailed off.

Cally squeezed his hand back, "no, of course I want to! I said yes because I love you, Jeff and do want to marry you." She withdrew her hand and went back to her breakfast, pausing briefly to add, "just maybe not in February or May, those seem to be kind of cursed months for me."

"If we're playing that game, I am vetoing September and June," Clarke replied with a wry smile.

"Duly noted, can we add January to the list too? It's the worst of winter," she added.

Clarke's eyebrows raised, "should we be writing this down, I feel like we are running out of months."

Cailin let out a small snort, "and we haven't even gotten to trying to coordinate everyone's shift schedules." She held up her buzzing phone, "oh look, it's my mother again, probably wants to give her opinion on what month we should get married in."

Clarke watched as she hit the ignore button again. "You do know you have to talk to her eventually, right?"

Cally shrugged, "hey I got married once without her knowing." She took in Clarke's wounded expression, it wasn't that she wasn't happy or even excited, it was just she wasn't good with all the attention being on her, and it seemed everyone was wanting to shine a spotlight on her. Not to mention her mother would be practically infuffrable until the 'I dos' were said. Actually, her mother would probably be insufferable until there were a bunch of mini Jeff and Cailins climbing all over everything but that was a whole other battle. She sighed as her phone started buzzing again, a text she couldn't ignore. "I know, I know, I'll deal with her, but I right now, I gotta get to work because Voight scares me more than my mother."

"Watch your six, babe," Clarke said, giving her a kiss as he walked her to the door.

She happily returned it, giving him a wink as she said, "see you later, cowboy," before heading in for another day at the precinct.


	19. Hearts on Fire

**Chapter Nineteen: Hearts on Fire**

Cailin entered a nearly empty IU; though it was still early, especially given their usual late starting hours. But after her admin leave and being sent home the night before, Cailin figured she needed to put in face time.

The only two people currently occupying their upstairs nook were Voight and Olinsky, with Alvin leaning back in his chair and Hank perched on his desk. They both stopped speaking as soon as Cailin stepped fully into the pen.

"You two could give a girl a complex," she quipped, trying to ignore the heaviness in the air.

"Callahan, my office, now!" Voight commanded.

Cailin blinked, following quickly after him, hating that this was starting to feel a little like her days down in VCU. Maybe she wasn't as good of a cop as she thought she was.

"Shut the door," Voight said as soon as she stepped over the threshold. She did so, remaining standing in front of his desk even after he said, "sit," though his tone was more level now.

She took a breath, "I'm fine, sir."

"Well that's a damn miracle," Voight replied, studying her closely.

She fought down a shudder, forcing her face to remain a mask, wondering what she had been called to task for this time.

"You left some nasty bruising around Mykola's neck, Callahan. Defense lawyer might have a field day with that."

Bruise marks? She was going to get her ass chewed about bruise marks and from a loose cannon of a man that was given his own off-the-books department with cages in an abandoned loading dock? Cailin blew a lock of hair out of her face before clenching her jaw.

"Though after he started bragging, those were the least of his worries. Might want to confine things to less visible areas next time though, sunshine," he continued, wishing she would just sit down already. But no, there she stood, stubbornly; looking practically through him, not giving an inch. Typical. And exactly why she was able to remain standing in a more figurative sense. "Seems you forgot a few details about the Nansenko case, or at least they didn't make it to your file," Voight continued, using his index finger to shove a folder her way.

Cailin caught her personnel number from the NYPD on the tab, stepping forward and pushing it right back toward him. "I've read it, sir, I know exactly what is in there and what isn't. Let's just say my old CO wasn't quite as willing to lie for us as you are."

"So you going to tell me the truth?" he asked, gently pressing, not breaking her gaze. This was enough to get her to drop down into the chair facing his desk.

"What good will it do now?" Cailin asked, absently spinning her ring around her finger, wishing this beast would just lie down and die already.

Voight let out a gust of air. "Might help in knowing what Mykola is lying about or not."

Cailin reached out for the file, drawing it carefully off the desk, setting it on her lap, though she kept it closed.

"Two weeks, Callahan?" he asked, his tone one of disbelief and awe.

She shrugged, "or so I've been told, I didn't really have a concept of time after we left the yacht."

"Did you know it was Mykola's estate you were found in?"

This gave the blonde detective a start. She shook her head, "no, Nansenko seemed familiar enough with that room, I assumed…" she trailed off, forcing down the memories. Those seemingly endless days and nights in that windowless room; blindfolded, arms chained above her head. The beatings, the ice baths, unknown rough hands roaming…

"As I said, what good will it do now, Hank?" she said, standing and leaning to drop the file on his desk, laying her palm flat on it, her ring catching the light from his desk lamp. They both looked down at it and then back at each other. "My old life ended that day, I'm trying my damnedest to start a new one. The best way to tell if Mykola is lying or not? If it sounds too depraved to possibly have happened, he is telling the truth. I am glad Dawson pulled me off of him yesterday, because I would have killed him and even hell isn't good enough for any of those bastards." She stared him down, her eyes somehow both vacant and like blue flames. "Are we good here, sir?"

He nodded, waiting until she straightened and turned to walk out the door before saying, "I'm not sure how you've kept it together, Callahan, but I'm glad to have you on my team."

She paused, not turning around, looking down at her hand again. "I have a pretty good idea how I have kept it together the past year, Voight. Glad I'm up here too, not apologizing for Mykola's bruises though."

Voight let out a small chuckle, "just have Alvin teach you how to not leave a mark."

* * *

Voight sent her and Dawson out to run the roads on some old cases, hoping to dig up enough on some bangers to keep the Mayor's office happy. Antonio kept giving her sidelong glances all day, until finally she wrestled the keys away from him and said, "if you are going to keep gawking, I'm driving, Dawson."

"You're as bad as Erin," he said, shaking his head. "So was that piece of scum telling the truth?" he asked finally.

Cailin jerked the car over to the curb, throwing it roughly into park. "I don't know, Antonio." She held up her hand as she glared at him, "and more importantly, I don't want to know what he said to you to tell you if he was telling the truth. I don't know who all was in that room when and, thankfully, I also don't know what all happened. I was blindfolded and drugged for a lot of it. I blacked out on some other stuff. All I know is at the end of it, my partner was dead and I was alive and made a promise to keep going until every piece of shit like Nansenko was rotting in prison. I am glad Mykola talked, because I am sure he gave himself enough rope to hand himself with, but that doesn't mean I want to go tripping down memory lane. I came to Chicago for a reason and found even more reasons to stay, and I am going to focus on those and my job. Which right now is to wrestle up a few new CIs and get Stillwell and City Hall off our backs, so do you think we can go do that?"

* * *

Stumbling her way through a computer program later, because Voight still hadn't gotten a replacement for Jin, Cailin became aware of Olinsky staring at her from across the way. "Jesus Christ, not you too, Alvin," she said, turning back to her keyboard and typing furiously.

"What's up with her?" Atwater asked to Ruzek's shrugging.

She ignored the long look between Erin, Jay and Antonio. Or tried to. "That's it, I am done being the latest exhibit in this zoo. I'll be at Molly's if anyone needs me." With that she gathered her things and left to meet Clarke who had already texted her that he was there.

The bar was quieter than she expected, but given the lack of any major sports games on and how nice the evening was, she wasn't entirely shocked. Everyone seemed to be crammed into places with patios or were just strolling along enjoying the night air. Hermann was behind the bar, but on the phone with Cindy, listening to the latest antics of his children. Mills, Severide and Clarke were on the end closest to the door, a mini-squad reunion, and they seemed to be actively ignoring the "newbies" from 51 at the far end. In between the two, Shay was sitting with Rafferty, who was rolling her eyes at the antics at the far end of the bar while Shay texted angrily on her phone.

"I may as well just tattoo a big 'L' on my forehead, losing out to stupid Matt Casey once again," Shay said, puffing out her cheeks in frustration.

Cally placed herself in between the two groupings, pointing to a tap while Hermann kept talking on the phone; everyone else so engrossed in their conversations, they hadn't noticed her slip in.

"Everyone knows you are gay, Shay," Rafferty quipped, garnering a narrow-eyed glare from Shay and a snort of laughter from Cally.

It was then Clarke realized who was standing next to him, taking in Cailin's forced smile at Shay and Rafferty, noticing the tiny furrow from her clenching her jaw. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, not turning as he pressed her against his side; a light squeeze of her hipbone enough for her to know that he could tell it had been a rough day.

Shay caught the movement, grumbling "freaking couples everywhere tonight."

Cailin arched an eyebrow at Rafferty, looking for an explanation.

"You just missed Casey and Dawson," Rafferty supplied, "and those two have been mooning over each other since before we got here," she said, pointing to the table in the back.

Cailin followed the woman's finger, catching sight of Joe Cruz and his nurse girlfriend, Taylor, holding hands across the table, goofy grins on both their faces. "I think it's sweet," Cally replied, even as she surprised herself in saying so.

"Who are you?" Shay teased, frowning, "has being engaged changed you already, Cal?"

"Wait, you two got engaged?" Rafferty asked, gesturing from Cally to Clarke.

Cailin nodded, squirming slightly, bracing herself for an onslaught of questions. Curious as a storm cloud passed over Allison Rafferty's face as she said, "that's great," her tone implying anything but.

"And there goes any chance I have of catching up with Kelly tonight," Shay sighed, pointing at the brunette who had just entered the bar.

Cailin watched as the petite detective stretched to cover Severide's eyes, though he quickly leaned forward and lifted her on his back, piggy-back style, resulting in a peal of laughter from Erin.

"Time for me to go boys, and no whipped comments out of you, Peter Mills," Severide warned.

Mills put his hands up, "I am not saying anything, man."

Erin, back on her feet, peered around the guys to level a steady gaze on Cally before gravely saying, "you and me are catching up tomorrow."

"Gee, can't wait, Detective," Cailin replied dryly.

Erin rolled her eyes, "it can involve wine."

"It is going to need to," Cally retorted.

"I'll call you," Erin said as she was nudged toward the door by her fireman.

"I'm out too," Shay said, looking down at the text she just received on her phone. "Hot redhead I met at Spyner's wants to meet up," she replied waggling her eyebrows.

"What happened with the lawyer?" Clarke asked, giving her a look.

"Boring and bossy, worst combination ever," she said, shaking her head, "later."

She was gone in a flash, leaving trio shaking their heads until Mills exclaimed, "damn Severide left us his tab!"

* * *

Cally and Clarke left shortly after, deciding to enjoy the walk home in the night air. Cally left a slight distance between them, still feeling the weight of her latest case in a way that left her frustrated. She just had to let it go, that was all there was to it. But having Voight question her, and the looks that Dawson and Olinsky kept giving her…what had Mykola told them? What did he know that she didn't? She shuddered, rubbing at the goosebumps that raised on her skin, Clarke's arm once again finding its way around her waist, pulling her next to him again. Though this time he stopped, turning her toward him, pulling her into his chest.

Thankfully he didn't say anything, didn't ask anything. Just held her, moving them away from the pedestrian traffic on Milwaukee. The simple act of not interrogating, or intruding or judging was enough to push Cailin over the edge. She crumbled in his arms, the safety and strength of them making her feel safe enough to fall apart. She buried her face in the fabric of his long-sleeved tee, and just let the tears flow.

Clarke felt shoulders gently shaking as he squeezed a little tighter, burying his face in her hair, fighting to hold back his own tears; he hated her being in pain, wished he could have a few minutes alone with that piece of Russian scum in those cages of Voight's. But he knew that wasn't what she needed. She had gotten in her own licks, and he knew enough about IU to know if anyone hurt a member of the pack, the punishment would be severe.

Something in her simultaneously broke and mended as they stood on the side street. A switch was flipped and her tears dried up, Clarke's arms tethering her to the here and now. She looked up at him, seeing a bright future in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jeff," she started, but she didn't get to finish her statement, his lips meeting hers firmly.

"No, no apologies. We are there for each other, Cally. Always," he said, when he broke off the kiss. "You have cut right to here," he said, tapping his chest, "since the moment I laid eyes on you, Cailin Callahan and I will give you the whole damn world if I can, but I won't listen to you apologize about anything having to do with what happened in New York."

There was equal measures of anger and love in his tone, rendering Cally speechless enough so she could just nod. "Good, then let's go back to the condo and maybe set aside some time to start looking for our own home." He smiled down at her, his eyes still clouded with a slight bit of sadness, wishing he could save her emotions as easily as he had saved her, not realizing he had already rescued her heart.

* * *

_Thanks to all of you for you're reviews, and Guest...my plot bunny keeps wanting to hop that way, so it will probably happen! As always, my gratitude to Chicago Firestarter and Ms Isabella! Lots of fluffy coming up as a balance to the not so fluffy happening on CF. Grumble grumble._


	20. Fire Woman

**Chapter 20: Fire Woman**

**_Pretty fluffy, but I need this AU land. And my supporters, y'all know who you are!_**

* * *

"For the love of all that is holy, mother! For the fifth time, I am not ducking you! Yes, we will come to dinner tomorrow night, I am just trying to catch up on my sleep!" Cailin snapped into her phone the next morning after Clarke had left for shift.

"I take it your mother is excited about your recent engagement?" came Erin Lindsay's voice over the line.

"Oh Jesus Christ, Erin, please tell me Voight isn't calling a meeting. I thought he said we could take the weekend."

Erin chuckled, "oh he did, in fact he kicked me out of IU when I showed up to try to do some paperwork."

"But he's allowed to work?" Cally replied, pulling herself up and climbing out of bed, smiling at the coffee already waiting in the carafe on the counter.

"His unit, his rules. You know Hank," Erin shot back. "Anyway, since I've already busted up your beauty sleep, I was wondering if you might be interested in helping me pick out a dress for this Hundred Club banquet Kelly is dragging me to. I assume you and Clarke are going?" She hoped she sounded blasé enough, despite knowing from Hank that both Antonio and Cailin would be receiving the Valor Award from the Pulpo case, similar honors being bestowed on 51 for the South State Street scene.

Cailin let out a sigh, "oh yeah that. Jeff is making us go and I suppose I should find a dress."

"Your excitement is overwhelming, Callahan," Erin dripped. No wonder Clarke had asked Kelly to ask her to take Cailin shopping and help get her out of her funk.

"Not all of us come and go by bubble, Lindsay," Cailin shot back, "but I guess it will be nice to see everyone and have a night out on the town. I just always feel like I am playing dress up and look like a cupcake."

A broad grin formed across the detective's face. "I think that should be Hank's new nickname for you."

Cailin let out a small growl, "you wouldn't dare."

Erin laughed, "meet me on Oak Street in an hour."

"You got a sugar daddy me and Severide don't know about," Cally asked, knowing how high-priced the Gold Coast street was.

"I know somebody," Erin quipped.

"Of course you do, Lindsay."

* * *

"I was planning on using my savings on a down payment and a wedding, Erin, not a damn froo froo dress for some boring banquet dinner. Can't I just rent something?" Cailin said, looking up and down the posh street, feeling horribly underdressed and out of her league. Despite other cops and firefighters thinking Mt. Greenwood was fancy, it really wasn't. At its heart, it was a working-class Irish neighborhood; one both sides of her family had lived in for generations. Sure, she and her brothers were now priced out of it, but none of them had silver spoons in their mouths growing up.

Erin, despite her rough upbringing, looked completely at ease. "Quit your bitching, Callahan, I told you, I know somebody." Her reply caused a pair of yoga mat carrying sticks to stop and stare at them, both detectives leveling glares at the other women until they scampered into the nearest coffee shop.

Erin did, as promised, know somebody. A lithe up and coming designer with a shop above the old money masses who formerly was a Tony who know went by Valentina and knew Erin from 'before'. The details were sparse, but the champagne was plentiful and as delicious as the frocks Valentina had set aside for them to try on.

"What are you going to tell me about first, the engagement or what Mykola said to have you strangle him?" Erin asked right as Cally had disrobed in the dressing room.

Cally had a feeling the timing was on purpose. "I don't know Erin, you wanna tell me about why Shay keeps mentioning that Kelly hasn't slept in his own bed for weeks or why Halstead is acting like someone stole his favorite toy _first_?"

"Touche," Erin retorted as Valentina called out, "I see I have two live wires to wardrobe today. I can't believe the good lord created two of you, Miss Thing."

"He didn't," Cally replied, stepping out after shimmying into the first dress, trying to ignore how much in plunged here and how high it was cut there. "She can run circles of sass around me any day," she paused as Erin stepped out as well, "and look a thousand times better than me doing it. Glad I already nabbed Jeff."

"Oh, so we're talking engagement first. Fine, carry on," Erin said, looking ethereal in a blush colored, flowing gown.

"He asked, I said yes, we love each other, logical next step. You don't really strike me as the roses and chocolates kind of girl, Lindsay, unless Severide has…" Cailin trailed off as she caught a blush rise in Erin's cheeks, almost matching the gown. "You aren't jealous are you, Erin?" she asked, a slight smirk playing across her face.

She couldn't believe that she had anything that Detective Hairporn couldn't flash her dimples at and snap her fingers and immediately obtain, but it seemed to be the case. Of course Kelly Severide and Jeff Clarke were two very, very different kinds of men. Cailin shook her head, "seriously, Erin? Have you seen you? Met yourself? Besides, you have all but tamed the wild Severide, a feat long thought impossible. I am sure, if it is something you want, it won't be long in coming."

Erin forced herself to not react. She wasn't normally a romantic, not really. Or more accurately, she didn't let herself be; it was emotionally safer that way and she had been crushed too many times in the past. But something about Kelly had pierced her armor and she _was_ slightly jealous of the newly engaged Cally. Which is why she wanted to join in some uncharacteristic girl talk, to hear the whole tale, to giggle or whatever it was that normal girls did. She should have known better than to expect Callahan to partake in such normalcies. And now here she was calling her out on her deep dark secret: that Erin Lindsay was head over heels in love and for once was actually thinking about the big M. "I'm not saying I want that, I don't really think either of us are the marrying type."

Valentina and Cally exchanged a look. "Uh-huh." "Sure."

"This dress is too angelic for me, V, what else you got?" Erin said, desperate to change the subject.

After wrenching every last detail out of Cally about the engagement, Erin finally let her friend try on the other dresses Valentina had set aside for them, with Cailin finally settling on a midnight gown that showed off enough of her figure to keep the designer and her friend happy but covered enough with strategic lace to keep her comfortable.

They left the shop, chatting and laughing like so many other women on the well-heeled street. Until some meth-head try to jack an old lady's purse and both women dropped their garment bags and went into full cop mode chasing him down. They sat on him, literally, until the precinct uniforms rolled up, snickering.

"Effing bitches," the meth head whined as Cally's elbow met its mark when he laughed at the snickering.

"Keep it up, chuckles," Erin warned, huskily. "I don't know about you, but I think I worked up an appetite chasing down this scum. I know a great little hole in the wall, Joe's."

Cally shrugged, "I could eat, of course I usually can and if I'm eating, I can't answer my constantly ringing phone."

Erin studied her for a moment before softly saying, "most women would be more excited about this, you know."

Her friend let out a long breath. "I know. It's not that I'm not excited. I just…we have both been married before, and it turned out poorly, to say the least, for both of us."

"You could say that," Erin replied, tossing her head back with a laugh.

"I don't want to discount either of our histories, good or bad, so it feels kind of weird making a big deal out of this. I'm not really a big deal kind of girl, ya know?"

"Oh, I know," she nodded in agreement, "but you aren't discounting anything, Callahan. You and Clarke got a good thing, celebrate it; it is allowed, encouraged even. So what if you were both married before? You two found each other now, enjoy it."

"We've only known each other a year, though."

Erin rolled her eyes, growing impatient. "And your point is? You two act like you've known each other a lifetime. Not to mention, as you just pointed out, you aren't dumb kids rushing into anything."

Cally wrinkled her nose, deep in thought. "I guess you are right."

Erin's eyebrows shot up and down as a mischievous, dimpled smile spread across her face, "usually am."

"Oh man, is Severide in trouble," Cally shot back.

* * *

"He's coming, I promise. I told you he was with a bunch of the guys helping Hermann with some house repairs. Apparently one of his kids fell through the back porch last week. I seriously don't know how Cindy puts up with all of it." Cally caught the look between her mother and her sisters-in-law. "I saw that, the lot of you. Please stay out of my womb for the next few hours at least, would you?"

"I can't help it, my baby is getting married and she would make such beautiful babies with her handsome fireman," Mary Margaret exclaimed, dramatically dabbing at her eyes.

Cam saw the vein start to throb on his sister's forehead first, deftly refilling her glass from the bottle of wine on the table. "We'll be right back, I gotta go show Cally something outside."

The Callahan matriarch's eyebrows knitted together. "What do you have to show her now? It is dark out and dinner will be ready soon. Are you sure Jeff will be here in time, sweetie?"

Cailin's groan was cut-off by Cam dragging her outside. "They mean well, sis," he started.

"Yeah, well I see Elizabeth is conveniently not at this shit show," Cally countered.

"I told you she is chaperoning a class trip."

"As I said, convenient. Oh thank God," she said as Clarke's car pulled up behind one of her brother's.

"That is what your Marine drives, maybe I won't let you marry him," Cam teased, pointing at the sedan.

Cally glared at him, "I don't think it was his choice, Cameron Philip!"

Clarke chuckled as he walked up, watching Cally's hands go to her hips as she dressed her brother down for something, though he covered it quickly as her icy look turned to him. "Having fun without me, I see," he said, unable to hide the slight smirk.

Cailin tried her best to look perturbed, but her security blanket had arrived and she immediately felt her tension dissipate as she closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him of their own accord.

"Bite me, Cam," she said over her shoulder as her brother made gagging noises, "go tell Ma the guest of honor is here and we'll be right in."

"Fine, but if you don't get in there soon, she'll have Conner or Colin turn the hose on you two," he warned with a broad grin as he jogged back toward the house.

* * *

"You okay?" Cailin asked on their drive back home. She worried about his quietness, not that he was ever really verbose, but there was something in his expression. He had held his own at dinner, and those in attendance had actually been on pretty good behavior. It had only been awkward when Coleman's wife seemed to forget Cailin was previously married and subsequently widowed, but the concurrent squalling of their infant provided enough of an excuse for her forgetfulness.

Clarke nodded. He was, truly, but the dinner had been a bit overwhelming. Not to mention it made him miss what he never had growing up. Most of his dinners involved his older brother heating something in the microwave and not letting him watch what her wanted on tv while their mother worked late at her second job.

"I know they can seem like a lot and this was without everyone there...but they do mean well. At least I think they do. This is why I moved away, why I wanted out of Mount G so bad when I moved back. And they like you, the teasing means they like you, Jeff, otherwise they would give you the cold shoulder. You can ask Matt. And even if they didn't like you, it doesn't matter because I love you! And ignore my mother, please, we don't really have to get married in the same church my parents did, I swear, not to mention it is probably booked for the next ten year-"

Clarke braked heavily, smirking slightly. "Callahan, take a breath, would you?"

She nodded and complied, still tense as she worried about what he was thinking.

"Your family is fine, really. Yes, there are a lot of them, and yes, they are pretty opinionated. At least I know you come by it honestly," he teased, ducking as she swatted at him. "Being there actually made me kind of jealous, I didn't have that growing up, and I wish I had." He paused, remaining quiet for a long moment, the air in the car growing slightly heavy.

Caitlin's hand reached across the car, sliding up his arm and pulling his hand off the steering wheel as she thread her fingers through his. "I wish you would have had that growing up, too."

He worked his jaw, swallowing down his emotions, taking in the heat and comfort of Cally's hand in his, the metal of her ring reminding him of the promise of a future with her and he silently vowed that their children would grow up in a house full of love and loud family dinners.

As if she could almost read his mind, he felt Cally squeeze his hand gently and say, "I'm sorry I won't get to meet your mother, but I can tell you she has a damn fine son. I'll love you forever, cowboy."


	21. Room on Fire

**Chapter 21: Rooms on Fire**

_I'm getting the feeling y'all aren't liking the fluff. My review count has plummeted. :( I could be mean like the show and write in all this death and sadness, but I just can't. Do me a favor and show me some love or at least tell me what you want more or less of._

* * *

"Don't you have someplace to be, cupcake?" Voight asked, giving Callahan a look as she hunched over her desk, deep in a report.

She followed his finger to the clock on the wall. "Damn! Is that what Erin meant about heading to the locker room?" She realized what Voight had called her and took in the smirk on his face, "Freaking, Lindsay, I am going to kill her!"

Voight let out a chuckle as the blonde tried to shut down her computer and gather up her things while simultaneously trying to text her fellow detective, a pile of files and her phone falling to the floor. He picked up her phone and waved her off. "Have a nice night, Callahan, get in whenever tomorrow."

Cailin looked at him, wondering where this kinder, gentler Hank Voight was coming from and debated if there was a woman involved; but she didn't have time to ponder such mysteries considering she was supposed to be at the Palmer House in formal wear in 28 minutes.

"Crap, crap, crap!" Cailin swore, storming into the locker room, already tearing off her clothes.

"Everything okay?" Kim Burgess asked, stripping out of her uniform and into street clothes, about to meet Adam for another on the DL date.

Cailin grumbled, "yeah except I have like ten minutes to turn into freaking Cinderella and-" she broke off taking in her fellow detective. "Really, Lindsay, I have to compete with that?" she growled gesturing to her gorgeous friend in the custom fit, sheer green gown from Valentina.

"I told you it was time to hit it, Callahan," Erin remarked, pausing to gloss her lips.

"Next time be more specific," Cailin retorted, shoving her clothes into her locker and yanking her dress over her head.

Erin shook her head, "you were just at the City Hall ceremony seven hours ago!"

"And 2 CIs and 4 gangbangers ago," Cailin shot back, pulling her hair back into a messy chignon. "Looks like I'll be doing my makeup in the cab," she sighed.

Burgess shook her head, "give me five minutes." True to her word, the former flight attendant had the detective fully made up in five minutes, a look of satisfaction on her face.

"You are a miracle worker, Burgess!" Cally exclaimed taking in her handiwork.

"Stare at yourself later, Callahan, or we are going to be late," Erin quipped, as Cailin followed her out, struggling to put on her heels.

* * *

Clarke was waiting for her next to the gilded peacock doors, looking down at his watch. "Worried I would stand you up, cowboy?" Cailin teased.

Clarke was about to make a joke when he caught sight of her in the midnight blue dress that hugged her curves perfectly, the sheer lace panels leaving just enough to the imagination; though his insider knowledge made him wish he could just sweep her away to a room upstairs. "And here I thought you looked gorgeous at City Hall earlier today," he said, smiling down at her and kissing her on the cheek.

"Nice try. No woman, except maybe Erin, actually looks good in their dress blues, but thanks," she said taking his offered arm as the porter held the door open for them. "You're looking very 007 yourself this evening, sir. You sure we gotta show up to this?"

Clarke nodded, despite desperately wanting to hail a cab directly home, their people were all gathered upstairs and they both knew how important these moments were, awards ceremony or not. "Yeah, but remind me that you and me need to do this more often without having to meet up with a bunch of lugs," he said, trailing his hand down her back, sending shivers up her spine.

* * *

The scene in the State Ballroom was as much a reunion as it was an awards dinner, despite having seen each other at City Hall earlier in the day. That affair was much more staid, the men of 51 alongside Clarke and Dowling receiving the prestigious Carter Harrison award from the mayor; while Antonio and Cally received Blue Star honorable mentions, though Voight loudly complained they should have received the actual award. The Hundred Club event, while still black tie, was definitely a celebration.

Everyone was dressed for the occasion, though Cally was pretty sure Otis' powder blue tux had come from a 1970's thrift store; Katie Severide didn't seem to mind, dressed in a matching gown. Kelly Severide was less amused, making a face that detracted from the otherwise handsome figure he cut in his tux, but a swat from Erin set him on the straight and narrow quick enough as they passed by the table. Though it didn't stop Kelly from glaring at Peter Mill's motioning of a whip, an empty seat between him and the more traditionally attired Joe Cruz, who was already lost in deep conversation with his first, and by the looks of it, last, love. Their table was rounded out by Capp and Tony and their wives, who were busy exchanging babysitter info while the guys talked sports and how things were going at the Fire Academy.

Clarke pointed out their seats at the next table, where Hermann and Mouch were seated, looked uncomfortable. Already tugging at their ties, as Cindy gently chastised them both, with the amused patience that only a mother of Hermann's brood could possess. Cally did a second double take at the gussied up Trudy Platt in the seat next to Mouch. Apparently the pair was, in fact a pair. She and Erin exchanged a brief look as the foursome took their seats next to Matt and Gabby.

"Don't worry, ladies, I am off the clock. No rank here," Trudy said, misinterpreting the look the woman had given each other.

"Good to know," Erin and Cally quipped in unison, garnering laughter from everyone else.

"Where's Shay?" Cally asked, Gabby, realizing she hadn't seen her vivacious blonde friend.

"Trying to score the bartender's phone number, even though her boyfriend is one of the head waiters," Gabby replied with a smile, "she came as Mills' +1"

"Don't worry, we won't be going home together, or alone. The other bartender was more than happy to give up her digits and I am sure Petey will do just fine on his own," came Shay's voice behind them, waving her cell phone in the air on her way to her seat.

"Doesn't Donna look wonderful, she is glowing. I don't think I looked like that with a single one of my pregnancies, do you Christopher?" Cindy Hermann remarked, catching sight of the Chief and his heavily pregnant wife making their way to one of the tables up front, where Newhouse's family were guests of honor.

"You looked better, sweetie," Hermann shot back without missing a beat, the three younger couples at the table working hard to hide their snickers and snorts. "If you boys were wise, you'd be taking notes," he said, glaring at them.

Cally leaned in a whispered in Clarke's ear, "please don't take any notes from Hermann."

"Babe, I passed my Lieutenants' exam on the first try, remember," he shot back, squeezing her thigh under the table, removing his palm only as the salad course was served.

"Speaking of off-the-clock and no ranks," Erin said, reaching over Severide and poking Cally, "what is he doing here?"

Cally followed her finger, "you expect me to know something about Hank Voight that you don't, Erin, really?" They watched as their boss walked over to a section of tables filled mainly with CPD, shaking the hand of their own Antonio Dawson. She raised her eyebrows at Gabby, her friend catching her question without her asking.

"Laura didn't want to send mixed messages," Gabby replied with a shrug, "and she refused to see a marriage counselor." A slight cloud formed over the table as they all digested this information, though the CEO of the 100 Club stepping up to the podium halted any further discussion.

Cally had just taken a large bite of prime rib when she heard her and Antonio's names being echoed over the A/V system. She started sputtering and choking as she looked around to figure out what was going on, both Severide and Clarke looking ready to do the Heimlich as they simultaneously reached over to thump her on the back. She ducked out of their reach, pushing her chair back and grumbling, "damn rescue squad," as she followed Antonio up to the makeshift stage to accept their Valor Award.

"Did you know about this?" she asked through a gritted teeth smile as they posed for a photograph.

"Not a clue, Voight told me to come support my sister. Couldn't figure out what the hell he was doing here," Antonio shot back, looking equally uncomfortable and stunned.

"It is wrong to kill your boss, right?" Cally quipped, the CEO looking a little disturbed.

Antonio nodded, turning to the CEO and saying, "she's just joking."

* * *

Luckily the MC was already moving on to the next awards and they were ushered back toward their seats. "I think they all knew," Cally remarked, realizing there were three tables full of people standing, clapping and generally causing a ruckus.

"Just think of this as a primer for your wedding, Callahan."

"And exactly why I am damn glad I eloped the first time," she shot back, trying unsuccessfully to slink back to her seat.

Cailin was beet red by the time she got back to her table, everyone still standing. "So I got shot, big deal, I don't run into burning buildings everyday, so sit down, the lot of you!" she admonished.

They complied, while still giving their well-wishes and attagirls. "You can't blame 'em for being proud of you, babe, they're family," Clarke remarked as she tugged him back into his chair.

"Yeah, well," she stammered, not able to handle the spotlight on her and more than a little overwhelmed, the look he was giving her not helping. They got lost in their own world for a moment until the words 'South State Street' caught their attention at the same time.

"Looks like it is someone else's turn, huh?" she said, giving him a look and a small smile that grew broader as all their names were called out. The tables emptied, leaving Katie, Taylor, Capp and Tony's wives, Cindy, Trudy, Erin and Cally clapping and yelling for their family now up on stage, receiving their own awards for valor.

Cally pulled Clarke in by his tux jacket as soon as he was within arms reach, ignoring his bashful expression as she landed a kiss on him teasing, "you can't blame us for being proud of you, Jeff."


	22. Lighting Fires

**Chapter 22: Lighting Fires**

**_Feeling generous since Firestarter posted her newest installment and was sweet enough to include Cally/Clarke plus tonight's CF was the one they were filming when I was last in Chicago. Love to y'all for showing me the love..._**

* * *

"You know we could probably get faster service if Shay wasn't making out with the other bartender in the bathroom," Cally remarked next to Severide waiting in the long line at the bar.

He let out a laugh, "it wouldn't surprise me."

"It shouldn't, it's true, I walked in on them and she just texted me to apologize. I don't feel like it was very sincere. But good for her, I know she's been less than…pleased with all of our coupledom. I kinda feel bad," Cally admitted.

Kelly shrugged, "don't, Leslie will be fine, she always is. She creates more drama than is needed half the time, any girl that is worth anything she insists is boring or not a challenge, but the crazy ones…she practically invites them to move in."

"Speaking of moving in…" Cally started.

"I am not living with Erin, Callahan," Kelly replied, his blue eyes narrowing.

"Sure you aren't, Severide," she teased, giving him a wink and a light punch on the upper arm. "Oh, stop glowering, Kelly. Erin is great for you, and I guess you are for her too," she paused, tugging lightly on his lapel, "don't mess this up, you both are important to me and I am not picking sides."

"I don't think you are going to have to pick sides, Cal," Kelly said, relieved that they were next in line to get drinks, there was something about the seriousness in her blue eyes that reminded him a little too much of the last time Leslie had pinned him down on his last run home to grab clean clothes.

He had been spending a lot of time at Erin's, but could you blame him? Not to mention he never knew what he was going to walk in on at home with Shay's never ending Dattch parade. He wanted her happy, he always had wanted that for her; but he also knew that this casual hookup, wham, bam, thank you m'am thing wasn't really her stye or what she was truly looking for.

"You keep looking like that, Kel, and maybe we should make it a double," Cally said, giving him pat on the cheek, "cheer up, buttercup, you're far too pretty to glower."

"Should Clarke and I be worried?" Erin asked, appearing at their side.

"No way, I can only imagine trying to get in mirror time with this one staring at his reflection for hours on end!"

Erin tossed her head back and belly-laughed, "good one, Callahan. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to steal my pretty pony here for a dance."

* * *

Cally sipped on her drink, heading back to the now mostly empty tables, everyone having scattered now that the party portion of the evening was in full swing.

She looked around, catching sight of Clarke, Hermann and Mouch in the Casino area that had been set up at one end of the ballroom. She thought about heading over, but decided against it, not wanting to break up the bonding.

She waved goodbye to Capp, Tony and their wives as they hastily left, saying something about needing to get babysitters home since it was a school night. She wondered if that was where Cindy had disappeared to as well, when she spied her and Trudy conspiring over near a dessert table.

Everyone else seemed to have taken to the dance floor, with the exception of Mills, who was being fawned over by a gorgeous woman with tawny colored skin that Cally thought she recognized as an ADA. She suddenly felt a bit out of place; almost going over to talk to Voight, who was now sitting with Boden and Donna, Newhouse's family having made an early exit. She debated her next course of action as she looked out at the city lights stretched out around them.

"You aren't thinking about sneaking out, are you, Cal, these windows don't open, you know."

"I didn't sneak out that often, Matty-boy, wasn't I usually sneaking you in?" she shot back, turning to her oldest friend with a smile on her face.

He smiled, slightly bitterly, at the memory, trying to ignore his reasons for sneaking into the Callahan house growing up. "Yeah, except your entire family knew what you were doing, why do you think they never replaced the lock on your window?"

"We never were as good as we thought we were, huh?"

Matt shook his head, "nope. Mostly because your brothers had already done it all and then some." He paused, looking at her for a long beat. "Congratulations, Cal."

Cally shrugged, "you got the same award, better by the city and you should have. I barely got zinged, it was nothing."

"On getting engaged, Cally. I'm happy for you. Jeff's a solid guy, he'll treat you right." Matt looked slightly uncomfortable, shuffling his feet before saying, "seeing as 'Tonio is trying to make me look bad, wanna dance, Gabby says I need lots of practice before the wedding." He gestured to where Gabby and her brother were out cutting a rug on the dance floor, alongside Katie and Otis, Erin and Kelly, Joe and Taylor and now Cindy and Trudy.

Cally laughed, taking his offered hand, "while that is probably true, you have eight months, Matt!"

"Tell that to her or her mother," Matt grumbled as he led her out to the floor.

"You had her the first however many years, Casey, hand her over," Clarke remarked behind them a couple of songs later.

"I thought you didn't really dance, cowboy," Cally remarked, nestling effortlessly and happily in his arms.

"As I said, you bring out the best in me," he replied, spinning her with equal effortlessness.

"Back at you, Jeff," she said, her lips greedily meeting his as he pulled her tighter against him.

* * *

The night was growing late and long, the guys having disappeared to the game tables again. The women, Shay included, her conquest having been forced back behind the bar, were sitting at the tables chatting and catching up. Minus Cindy and Trudy, who had left to relieve the babysitter watching over the Hermann clan. The only male holdout was Otis, who was sitting enraptured as Katie Severide told them about the head catering chef job she had just landed.

Erin had just finished her glass of wine when she saw a figure walking towards them, elbowing Cailin, both of them groaning simultaneously.

"Stop looking like I am about to cancel Christmas, ladies, I am coming over to talk to Brian," Voight said, barely pausing at their table.

"Otis?" Cailin questioned, willing her heart to stop thudding as her body readied itself to spring to action in full cop-mode.

"Yeah, aren't you the one that keeps whining to me about how he would be perfect for the IT job?"

"I do not whine, sir," Cailin shot back, garnering a slight smile and a shake of her boss' head.

"Fair enough, Callahan, but you are a bit like a dog with a bone," he mumbled.

"I heard that," Cally remarked to the noises around the table.

"There are worse things than being tenacious," Taylor remarked stoically.

"Me, sir?" Otis squeaked out, as Voight motioned for him to follow.

"Oh this is going to be fun," Erin remarked.

They noticed another pair making their way over, Cally motioning to Shay and Gabby, "good thing you two are here, I'm was worried Donna's was gonna pop that baby out before the dessert course."

"Well that kid would have had to wait until after I got my Bertha Brownie," Shay shot back, to peals of laughter.

"It is nice to see everyone having a good time, just be safe getting home," Boden said, with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Donna and they made their way toward the door.

"Okay, now that the boys are finally all gone, let's talk wedding, Callahan," Shay said moving next to Cailin, propping her chin on her fist, looking at her friend with wide blue eyes.

"Er, what about it? I've been engaged for all of a week, Leslie!"

"Then you better get cracking, because if you listen to Gabby, it is quiet the undertaking." Gabby peered around from the other side of Cally to glower at her friend. "Oh, don't give me that look, Gabriela! But surely you and old Clarke have talked about it!"

Cally let out a snort before saying, "yeah, we've sort of talked about it. Mostly all the months we don't want to get married. February and May are out for me because bad luck central, September is out for him because Lisa. June because Gabby and Matt, we already ditched January because you know how much I love winter," she rolled her eyes, "it can suck it except the holidays, it's the only time of year snow seems worth the hassle So that's nearly half the year already. Maybe we should just elope, it wasn't so horrible doing the courthouse thing the first time."

"That's exactly why you can't this time, Cailin!" Shay admonished.

"Isn't helping Gabby plan her wedding more than enough for you, Leslie?" Cally shot back, "besides," she looked sheepish, "I kind of just want to be done with it. Wait, that doesn't sound right. I love Jeff, I have since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I just realize how precious having a second chance is and I don't want to wait. I also don't want to steal any of your thunder, Gabs," she said, looking at her friend with a furrowed brow.

"Please, girl, you aren't stealing anything, not to mention with the wedding my mother is planning I don't think Zeus could steal my thunder. Get married whenever you want."

"So what about the holidays?" Shay suggested.

"That's over a year away, did you miss where I said I didn't-"

"These holidays, Cal."

"Like in a couple of months from now?" Cally replied, looking confused.

"It is soon, but luckily Gabby's mother has already planned like 14 weddings on Pinterest," Shay teased.

"It could work…" Cal replied, trailing off, her head swirling.

"Whoop whoop," Shay grinned as she drew both Cally and Gabby friends into a hug.

"Um, shouldn't we maybe loop the groom into this?" Cailin retorted, feeling both excited and panicked.


	23. Fire in the Morning

**Chapter 23: Fire in the Morning**

"Wait so Shay suggested what now?" Clarke asked in the back of the cab on the way home. Cally had managed to shush her overly excited friend up, even if both tables of women had dissolved into laughter when Clarke walked up a couple of moments after the wedding date discussion as though his ears were burning.

Cailin shrugged, picking at the manicure she had foolishly let Erin talk her into Saturday afternoon. "That we should get married in a couple of months over the holidays," she said, more to her window than to her fiancée. She worked to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, to deny that she actually liked Shay's idea. Sure it was crazy and impulsive, much like Leslie herself, but she had a point. And she knew her two friends well.

"I mean if the schedules work and we can find someplace…" Clarke said, running through his rotation calendar in his head.

"Are you seriously contemplating this, Jeff?" she asked incredulously.

"You should have heard some of the ideas Shay had for proposing to you, planning a wedding in a couple of months is incredibly tame and possible compared to those."

Cally let out a combined laugh and a sigh, "we really need to get her a girlfriend."

"Can we focus on one miracle at a time, babe? And more importantly can we get home first?" The look he gave her was enough for Cally to tell the drive to step on it.

* * *

Cally decided to take Voight up on his suggestion of 'coming in whenever' the next day. Waking up in Jeff's arms enough of an incentive to stay in their warm, if mussed, bed.

"Morning," he said barely opening one eye, a lazy smile on his face as he felt Cally stir.

"A very good one, I would say," she replied, moving up for a kiss.

He eagerly returned it, heat growing between them immediately. "You aren't going to have to jump up and rush into the precinct, right?" he asked, eyes clouded with lust.

"Not a snowball's chance, cowboy," she retorted, trailing down his body.

"We should talk about setting a wedding date more often," Clarke remarked with a satisfied grin while making breakfast a while later.

Cally let out a small laugh, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar clad only in a truck 25 t-shirt, lazily flipping through the paper; her phone blessedly silent beside her. "That had nothing to do with Shay's insane idea and everything to do with how hot you looked in your tux last night."

"What was last night about then, Cal?"

"Still the tux."

Clarke smiled, putting a plate of food in front of her. "Gotta keep your strength up, then. And as I said, we really need to do that more often without shit having to go sideways first."

"I don't need fancy, Jeff, you know that," she retorted, digging happily into her food.

He smirked, "good thing, considering how you just attacked that food." He made his own plate, sliding beside her, pausing with his fork hovering over his plate.

He had stayed awake the night before, after a satiated Cailin practically passed out next to him, thinking about Shay's suggestion. He meant what he had said before, he would marry Cally in a heartbeat, but she should have a wedding. And he wanted more than just a piece of paper, he wanted their relationship cemented in the eyes of the law, their people, and God.

Except for the tiny issue of his divorce and not being Catholic, something Mary Margaret had cornered him about when he carried a stack of dishes into the kitchen after the big Callahan family dinner.

He neglected to tell Cally about this, she already isolated herself from her family far more than needed. She still seemed slightly hung up on the idea that she was a bit of an unwanted mistake, even if anybody else could tell in a second around her family that couldn't be further from the truth.

Cailin's mother had firmly informed him her only daughter was going to have at least one wedding in a Catholic Church, regardless of the groom; while kindly reminding him to not worry, because they had an in with the big guy. He still hadn't figured out if she meant God or the Archbishop; but in this town, those weren't that far apart.

"You gonna eat or just stare at your food? It is clear you didn't grow up with a bunch of older brothers, Clarke," Cally teased.

He made a face. "No, I was just thinking Shay's idea isn't so insane. There's no reason to wait other than planing, but we know people who know people, so how hard can it be?"

"Finding a church that is free and convincing them to waive the six month wait period without me being knocked-up for one," Cally grumbled.

"Holy Family," Clarke countered.

"Yes, we've clarified my family is crazy Catholic," she grumbled again, stabbing at her food.

Clarke shook his head, "the church, babe, on Roosevelt. 51 stopped it from burning down during their renovations last fall, so we're kind of a big deal to them. Not to mention your brother." He gave her a look before digging into his own food.

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to have an answer for everything?"

"Because while you were sawing logs last night, I was doing some thinking."

"I do not snore, Jeff Clarke!"

"Sure you don't, babe," he smiled, kissing the look of horror off her face.

* * *

"Afternoon, cupcake," Voight remarked with a wink when she arrived up in IU.

"I really am going to kill Erin for that," Cally growled, thinking there just had to be a new woman in Voight's life. She looked around, Antonio and Erin either still not in or out on a case, Jay & Atwater's desks also empty, while Alvin and Adam were deep into files and..."Otis!" Cally exclaimed, spying her moustached friend exiting the IT closet.

"Uh, I'm trying to go by Brian here, Callahan," he said, sheepishly.

"Right, sorry, Brian, got it. But it is great to see you, I kinda wondered if Voight was serious."

"I seem like the joking type to you?" Voight's voice said at her shoulder.

"Not in the least, sir, but you do seem to be taking in a lot of strays recently, between Brian, Nadia-" she saw the look in his face, "and myself, I am acutely aware nobody else wanted me."

"Because they are all idiots, but don't get too comfy catching up with your old friend here. Case came in, I want you and Halstead on it. Files are on your desk, brief him when he gets back with Atwater."

She looked at him a long beat, surprised he wasn't pairing up Erin and Jay like he normally did. Maybe Jay really was not cool with Erin and Kelly getting serious. She hoped the other man was able to keep his jealousy in check and vowed to have a chat with him at some point on this case.

* * *

"We have to do what?" Cally exclaimed as she finished reading through the file, storming into Voight's office.

"Your Marine isn't going to have a problem with this, is he, Callahan?" Voight replied, not budging from his spot behind his desk, legs thrown up on its top.

Cailin narrowed her eyes, "Clarke is not my keeper, he knows this is my job. You consider I might have a problem with this, sir?"

"As you said, this is your job and nobody else wanted you, so get cracking."

"Is this a low girl on the totem thing?"

Voight shook his head, "not specifically…"

"So why me and not Erin? I just did the UC Krok job and we both know how that turned out!" she exclaimed.

Voight shook his head with a sigh, finally rising and walking towards her. "I think you know exactly why you and not Erin."

"It doesn't have to be Halstead!" she protested.

"Who, who else? Me and Olinsky are too old, Atwater's too green, both of you two would eat Ruzek for breakfast after an hour and Dawson has a lot on his plate right now. That leaves Halstead."

Cailin looked like she wanted to argue but the very person they were talking about appeared at the top of the stairs.

Voight all but pushed her out of the office. "Oh good, you're back. Halstead, Callahan, I know pronounce you unhappily married."

"Come again?" Jay asked, looking puzzled, the rest of IU staring at them equally confused.

Cally rolled her eyes, "I'll catch you up, but we're going to Molly's to do so, we both will need a drink."

* * *

"You weren't kidding about needing a drink, where you Callahan?" Halstead said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Cailin raised her eyebrows, topping off his glass from the bottle she had Shay pull out for them. "I never kid about drinking, Jay."

"Why us?" he asked, still looking a little taken aback.

"I don't think you really want my answer to that, because despite having to prove to a contract killer otherwise, I might actually like you, and I definitely like Erin…and Kelly," she stressed, giving him a look.

"Oh that," Halstead replied, draining his glass.

Cailin mirrored his actions saying, "yeah, that, though let's put that on the back burner and figure out how quickly we can play unhappily ever after and almost get you killed."

"It's a good thing there aren't normal customers around," Shay said, wiping down the bar and giving them a look.

"It's 3pm, Shay, any customers in here would be drunks and wouldn't remember what they heard."

Shay put her hands up, "I'm just saying. You tell Clarke about this," she gestured between the two of them, "shotgun wedding yet?"

"No, Leslie, I have not. I haven't seen him since I left this morning talking about our, thanks to you, own practical shotgun wedding," Cally retorted.

"Hold up, you aren't saying what I think you're saying," Halstead interrupted, looking panicked.

Cally shook her head, "no, Jay, I am not with child. You just saw me plow through a glass of whiskey! Shay here had the brilliant idea last night that Jeff and I should get married around the holidays and for some reason he actually thought this insane idea was a good one."

"He did, oh good!" Shay replied, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Yeah, he did, I'm glad you are both so into this. Maybe you two can plan the whole damn thing while Halstead and I are playing house over in Lincoln Park."

Shay practically bounced, "really?"

"No, not really. Aren't you helping Gabby with her wedding extravaganza? Why are you so into this?" Cally asked, feeling a bit incredulous. Shay had become increasingly anti-wedding with each day that passed toward Gabby and Matt's wedding, so it was weird to see her so on-board, in fact, almost over-board with her and Jeff's.

Shay shrugged, "I don't know, Clarke's just like my lesbro, you know? He's been there for me when I needed him to be, even when I didn't know I needed him to be."

"What about Kelly?" Cally pointed out, noticing how the second mention of the fireman's name brought a glower to Jay's face. Yep, they were definitely going to have a chat.

Shay rolled her eyes, "puh-lease, girl, even if Kelly ever got married, you know he would never let me plan a single thing. Except maybe the bachelor party," she grinned wickedly, "and more likely he would just stroll all casual into work one day and be all, hey guys, you catch the game last night, oh no, I missed it, because I was too busy tying the knot."

Cally couldn't help but laugh at Shay's impression and Halstead's increasing discomfort. "enough, enough. Cool your jets, Leslie Shay, and I promise you'll be the first person I call when I need help. Now, Jay, darling, what is it that you have done to me that makes me what to have you whacked?"

* * *

"You better not get any ideas, Halstead," Clarke said, menacingly, glaring at the other man later that evening, having met them at Molly's. Halstead tightened his jaw, going into Ranger mode, facing off with the jarhead until Cally burst out laughing.

"He's messing with you, Jay, jeez," she said, "but your face is kind of priceless."

"Yeah, hilarious, except for that time I had to fit him for an ELMO after Dawson arrested him for murder," Halstead grumbled. "Seriously though, we're cool, right, man?" he asked, sticking his hand out.

Clarke shook it readily, "yeah, we're cool." He was trying to not worry about this assignment, especially after how the Krok turned out. At least this time someone else would be in there with her, and they would be wired-in the entire time. He also sensed something of a kindred spirit in Jay Halstead, and knew he would have Cally's six. "Just make sure she has coffee in the mornings, otherwise she'll kill you long before some hired gun can try to."

"Thanks a lot, love you too," she replied, playfully swatting at him.

He caught her arm, pulling her next to him, wrapping his arm around her waist. "So just when do you two start shacking up?"

"Voight's working out the details," Halstead replied, clearing his throat, suddenly feeling very much like a third wheel. "Think I'm going to go check in with him on that."

Cally let out a small laugh as soon as he left. "I am pretty sure if he hadn't seen combat, he would have pissed his skinny jeans, babe."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make it clear he knew he better make sure nothing happened to you." He saw her expression change. "I know you can take care of yourself, Cal, but you're my girl, you're going to be my wife and I'm not ever going to stop worrying about you."

The look of concern on his face was enough to melt Cailin's burst of anger away. She turned and looked up at him, a small smile on her face as she laid a palm against his face, "still planning on coming home to you for a long time yet, Jeff."


	24. Strange Fire

**Chapter 24: Strange Fire**

_**Love as always to my readers/faithful reviewers, that and a cheers of vino to my two biggest champions (L&S) and a shout out to my "newperson", so glad you've jumped on board!**_

* * *

"You seem oddly calm about this, unless you're doing that simmering rage thing again," Cailin said, looking at Clarke lying on the bed as she packed a suitcase at the foot of it.

Clarke shrugged, "it's your job, gotta go better than the last one. Besides, it's Halstead's head on the chopping block, not yours."

Cailin smiled, though it was slightly hollow. "I suppose you have a point." She caught sight of the price tag hanging from the new pair of designer duds that Voight had sent over as part of their cover. "Who the hell pays $100 for something that is going to be covered in butt sweat?" She remarked, holding up the pair of yoga shorts.

Clarke let out a snort. "Idiots, but you might want to keep that to yourself while you are trying to get in good with the Richie Riches."

"You saying I'm not classy, babe?" she teased, shaking her head at another price tag. This suitcase probably contained the down payment to the little brick house they were looking at on the still sort of wrong side of Humboldt Park.

"Not touching that with a bangor," he replied, stretching before he rose from the bed and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Now would you finish throwing all that crap in there so I can send you off properly?"

"Consider me packed," she replied, hastily dumping the pile of clothing in and shoving the bag off the bed so they could fall into it.

* * *

Cailin burst out laughing as Jay climbed out of the fully loaded SUV Voight had assigned to them. He glared at her, looking acutely uncomfortable. "Sorry, Jay, I can't help it. You look like a douche," she said taking in his salmon colored pants and carefully layered shirt, sweater vest and popped-collar polo.

"Yeah, yuk it up, because you look like a basic bitch," he shot back, thinking he would much rather be shot at than going on this assignment. Not that he didn't want to work with Callahan, but having to rub elbows with the élite gave him nightmares.

Cally raised an eyebrow before sliding her giant sunglasses back up her nose. "Good, then we will fit in perfectly. Let's roll."

They both whistled upon entering the massive penthouse overlooking the lake. Little above our pay grades, huh? Cally remarked, taking in the view

"This place is bigger than my building! That TV is bigger than my apartment," Jay retorted, "maybe you can go to the thing at the club without me and I can catch the game?"

Cal glared at him, "not a chance, Halstead."

"Keep glaring at me like that and we will be able to wrap this up real quick."

The evening was torture to them both, but they hobnobbed well enough with their cover story (Cally as trust fund girl from back East with Jay as the poor tennis instructor she fell in love with, her family shipping them to Chicago until she wised up) to get invited to another event the next evening.

They both had spent the day kissing up to the pretty people, trying to get in on the fast track of the unhappily wed, which really appeared to be the majority. Both were in foul moods by the time the charity event rolled around that evening.

"I look ridiculous, this is ridiculous, why can't these people just have long, drawn, out expensive divorces on reality shows like normal rich people?" Cailin said, circulating through crowd, garnering laughter over the comm Otis had whipped up for them.

"At least you aren't wearing plaid pants," Jay shot back, feeling even more ridiculous.

"True, you win…or lose, now come on, let's stage a hissed whisper fight over by the bar, because I think I see our targets," Cally said, spying the guns for hire across the room.

Dominic Scalise and Petra Alfaro made for a striking pair, more easily settling into the well-heeled crowd than the detectives trying to take them down. They had already made their way down the East Coast, from Boston to Miami, leaving a wake of not so grieving widow and widowers behind. Both were hired guns for the mob for years, but they found a lot more bang for their buck in the niche market that found burying a spouse far cheaper and less messy than a divorce. The couple was frighteningly good at staging tragic accidents, which is why nobody caught on until they rolled up in the Windy City and one of Olinksy's CIs informed them of an "insurance scam".

"You are the reason we are stuck in this hell hole, if you hadn't embarrassed Daddy in front of his friends, we would be living in Greenwich right now!" Cally hissed as soon as Dom and Petra were in earshot.

"Like those jerks matter. They're just an ATM to me."

"And apparently so I am I. Don't think I'm just going to keep filling your bank account so you can go get cozy with skanks, Jason!"

"Whatever, sweetheart, you wanted to piss daddy off, well mission freaking accomplished, now pay up."

"Go to hell, you miserable leech."

"I already told you what it would take to get me to disappear."

"Oh I'll make you disappear," Cally muttered, making sure she made eye contact with Dominic.

It must have worked because after Jay walked away and started making flirtatious rounds, Dominic approached Cally as she stood at a cocktail table in the corner, nursing a glass of wine. Just being around all these high-rent, shallow people made her want to down several glasses, but she knew she was on the job.

"You're too pretty to be standing all alone and frowning," he said, giving her a long once over.

Cailin forced herself to smile, even though she really wanted to tell him he was being insulting and sexist. But she had to get him to offer to whack her fake husband, and telling him off wasn't going to get this job done any faster so she could get home to her real soon-to-be husband. "Better?" she said, keeping her tone light and hopefully playful.

"Much. Leo Giovanni, nice to meet you," Dominic smoothly lied.

"Catherine Johnson, pleasure," Cally lied right back, putting out her hand daintily.

Dominic moved in closer, sitting his drink on the table, settling right in. "I haven't been here very long myself, but I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you a new member?"

"Just visiting, hopefully, I'm from back East. I've been put in time out," she smiled, trying to look slightly flirtatious, hoping it was working.

"Whatever ever for, Miss Johnson?" he smiled, with a look that told Cally it was, in fact, working.

She spun a lock of hair around her finger, being careful to not dislodge the scarf that hid her scars which could potentially ruin the poor little rich girl look. "It's Mrs. Harper, actually, and that's the problem. Daddy wasn't so found of me running off with my tennis instructor. I suppose after mother took off with her Pilates instructor, it is a bit of a sore subject, but…true love and all that," she shrugged.

He looked at her carefully, before his eyes wandered to where Jay was easily chatting it up with a striking redhead. "Is that so?" he said, a slight teasing tone.

"Or too much tequila after finding out my newest step-monster is barely older than I am. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I hear that a lot," Dominic said, unable to hide his grin.

* * *

"I don't know what you are moaning about, Halstead, you've spent the past week flirting and being fawned over," Cally said, barely looking up from her phone while Halstead complained about them having to go to another event that night.

He pursed his lips, "I just don't see how there can possibly be this many things to raise money for. And those women are all ridiculous airheads who just want to gossip about who has had plastic surgery or whine about how many calories are in everything. One of them actually asked me if air has calories. Air, Callahan!"

"You poor thing, I'll say a novena for you."

Jay sneered at her, "your sympathy is overwhelming. Remind me to thank Voight for bringing you on to IU."

"Yeah, well sorry you didn't get to play house with Erin," she shot back, feeling slightly guilty about it until she saw the look cross Jay's face. She put down her phone, now was a good a time as any for that chat she had meant to have. "Okay, that was a low blow, but…"

"But what?" he snapped.

Cally waited a long beat, moving across the large room and perching on the edge of a chair next to the couch he was sitting on. "What is the deal with the two of you? You sort of act like you two have history, but I didn't think you did and you are definitely acting like a jealous ex around Severide."

"I am not jealous! Jay protested, his voice raising.

"Well you sure are acting that way, your face turns red every time Kelly's name come up and god forbid you share the same air space as him, I worry you are going to break a molar. Even if you have feelings for Erin, which are none of my business, it isn't fair to her to act like an ass around the guy she chose. So of you care about her at all, lay off the petulant act, it doesn't suit you."

"You're right, Callahan, it is none of your business, so stay out of it."

Cally leaned forward, "your feelings aren't my business, Jay, but Erin is my friend, so is Kelly, and you being a jerk to Kelly bugs her, even if she won't say anything to you. She doesn't want there to be tension at work. We are a family up in IU, we have to have each other's backs, always."

Jay looked at her for a moment, knowing she was calling him on his BS, knowing he had acted like a brat. It was just Erin had hinted at a some day that was looking more and more like it wasn't going to happen. And even beyond his feelings for her, he missed her, Severide had swooped in with this chiseled everything and stolen his person. But that wasn't Cal's fault and she did have a point about the team. "Even if you are trying to put a target on mine?" he finally joked.

"Fake target, Halstead. Speaking of which, Dominic told me he might have a solution to my problems, and I don't think he is going to give me the number of a divorce attorney. We're supposed to meet for drinks after this event." Cally hoped she had laid enough breadcrumbs for Dominic and Petra to follow, because a week in and she was missing Jeff more than she cared to admit. It didn't help that they had traded voice mails and that he picked up an extra shift over at 51 as a favor to the Gold Watch Squad Lieutenant. At least on the Krok case she still got to curl up next to him for a few hours, instead of tossing and turning alone in a ridiculously oversized King bed that cost more than a car. She wondered what he was up to and if she had time to try to call him, when her phone started to ring with Voight calling to remind her that Perry expected quick solutions to complex cases.

* * *

"Come on, Clarke, it is perfect!" Shay pleaded, scrolling through the images on her iPad.

Clarke closed his eyes and shook his head. Somehow in even hinting that he and Cally weren't against the idea of trying the knot over the holidays, he had created a bridezilla…out of his lesbian friend. "It is something, Shay, and that something is expensive."

"Maybe they'll cut us a break since you two are keeping the city safe and stuff," she shot back, looking slightly dejected.

"I am not picking out a place to have a reception without Cailin," he protested, firmly, taking a long drink of beer. Cally was right, they needed to get Shay a girlfriend. He looked around for someone to back him up, but everyone else was focused on something else. Including a very annoyed looking Severide sitting in the back with his detective. "Wonder what that is about," he remarked, knowing it would stop Shay's wedding bells from ringing.

"I don't know, but you better believe I am going to find out," Shay quipped, raising her eyebrows.

* * *

"I thought we were on a date," Severide protested as Erin checked her phone for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, romantic venue, Kel," Erin said, only half paying attention. Halstead was supposed to check in with her tonight, but he had blown her off. Again.

Severide stared at her, annoyed that she didn't seem to notice him, her attentions fixed on her screen and stinking Halstead off gallivanting with Callahan. At least Voight hadn't made Erin go, though he could only imagine how happy that would have made pretty boy. Not that he knew the details, but Clarke hadn't seemed too bent about the case other than it lasting over a week.

"Text me back, damn it!" Erin swore as Halstead's phone went to voice mail.

Severide let out a sigh. "Please explain this to me, Erin, because Clark isn't this twisted up about Cally and they are getting married!"

Erin narrowed her eyes at him, "he's my partner, Kelly!"

"I thought you all were a team," he countered, knowing he was baiting her.

"Yeah, well Callahan isn't the one getting a target painted on her back," Erin replied crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

Severide shook his head, "I just gotta know what is the deal between the two of you. I am not going to sit around while you go to work to make goo-goo eyes at pretty boy. Don't string me along, Erin!"

"I'm sorry, what part of you spending nearly every night at my place for the past three months is stringing you along? What part of actually telling Voight to screw off when he wants me to work when we have plans in stringing you along? What part of going against every cell in my body telling me to run as far away from you as possible is stringing you along? Huh, Kelly, what part?"

He studied her, her hazel eyes blazing, a flush rising to her cheeks, her fist pounding the table for emphasis and, even with all the notches on his bedpost, she was the most beautiful, captivating woman he had ever seen. And she was right, she wasn't stringing him along. "You're awfully cute when you are angry, detective," he said with a grin.

Erin let out a strangled yell, not knowing if she wanted to kiss him or slap him, but damn if she didn't love him.

* * *

"No, I understand completely, and that is a small price to pay and I would much rather pay you than let that leech get one more dime of my family's money. But you're sure it will look like an accident?" Cally said, after Dominic had finally taken the bait. She hoped the comms were working as well as Otis had promised, considering they were in Dominic's car, parked under an overpass in a less than desirable part of town.

"Just get me the money and the only thing you need to worry about is what to wear to his funeral," Dominic replied with a smile.

"Then Leo, you have a deal. Now how about we go get a drink to celebrate me being one step closer to being a free woman?" Cally suggested with a laugh.

She quickly escaped to the ladies room as soon as they arrived at the upscale nightclub Dominic brought them to. As soon as the door shut behind her, she let out a heavy sigh before saying "tell me you got that."

"We did," came Voight's voice over the comm, "and you may have been a little too good, I might need to let Clarke know."

Cally rolled her eyes, "very funny, Voight, now just get me the cash so we can get this job done and get home."

Voight chuckled, "what, you aren't enjoying married life?"

"Not to freaking Halstead!"

"Hey!" Jay's voice joined in.

"Damn Otis," she grumbled.

"It's Brian, Callahan," her former fireman tech genius retorted.

"I really do need that drink now," she said, glaring at the bathroom attendant who thought she was talking to herself.


	25. Fire on High

**Chapter 25: Fire on High**

_I just couldn't keep them away from each other for any longer, so the UC assignment came to a rapid end! Lots of great stuff coming up no matter what your cup of tea is. A huge thank you to my sounding boards and to my reviewers and for all you readers out there, hope you are enjoying! _

* * *

"So I take it you missed me," Clarke teased from the floor of the living room, which was as far as they made it since Cally had pounced on him the second she walked in the door.

"Now whatever gave you that idea?" she countered, looking around for her shirt.

He retrieved it from underneath the couch, handing it to her with a smirk, "you aren't that good a bluffer, Callahan. I take it you got your guy."

"Oh I got my-" she started in, stopping as he gave her a look, "yes, hook, line and sinker. The Outfit is going to have to put out a classified for two new hired guns. And those two, they turned on each other quicker than alley cats. Voight just had to walk Petra past the cages and she went full canary."

"Good to hear," he said, pulling his jeans back on, glad the blinds were closed. "So you and Halstead divorced yet?"

"Very funny, Jeff. Though I did almost get taken off his Christmas card list when I called him out on acting like a brat around Kelly and Erin."

"I'm sure that went over well," Clarke said, thinking about the argument Shay had filled him in on between Severide and Lindsay, even though he hadn't really wanted that bit of knowledge.

Cally made a face, "like a ton of bricks, but somebody needed to do it. I don't want to meddle, but if I have to keep working with them both, I need to know Halstead has his head in the game. But enough about work, I need food. I am starving, I have never seen so much elf food in my life than at all those stupid charity events and the waiters practically run past you, I guess they figure most women are just going to wave them away…I would shoot a family member for a burger right about now."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, "let's get you fed then, I don't think the crime rate needs to increase in the city. You mind getting take-out and bringing it to Molly's? There's a certain paramedic tending bar tonight that has already talked my ear off this past week." He shuddered, looking slightly sheepish.

"Are you afraid of Leslie Shay, jarhead?" Cally teased.

"Just you wait, Callahan," he said with raised eyebrows.

* * *

"You weren't freaking kidding," Cally muttered under her breath as Shay excitedly ran through all her ideas, carefully arranged on Pinterest.

"Told you so," Clarke replied, shaking his head, catching sight of Severide, Mills, Mouch and Cruz watching a Blackhawks game at the other end of the bar.

Cally mock scowled at him, "sure, abandon me, cowboy!" she called after him.

"Ain't your first rodeo, Cal," he shot back.

"It sort of is," she grumbled, taking a long drink of beer before turning her attention back to Shay. Finally she couldn't nod along absently anymore. She was going to have to try and let her down easy; though she was pretty sure no matter what she did, Shay's heart was going to get crushed, or at least her spirits. And then she was going to have to face those big baby-blues looking at her like Bambi after his mom died. God, no wonder Severide was wrapped around her finger. "Shay," she said a couple of times, trying to stop the freight train. "Leslie Shay!" she finally said, yanking her friend's arm away from the iPad.

"Okay, fine, maybe we can ditch the live butterflies, I've heard that can end up kind of iffy anyway," Shay said, deleting the pin.

Cally rubbed at her temples, "sweetie, we both love you, you know that right?"

Shay nodded, looking slightly uneasy. She set the iPad down with a sigh, eyeing the bottle of tequila in front of her. "Am I going to need this?" she asked, quietly.

"Probably," Cally admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You aren't calling off the wedding, right?" she asked, looking slightly misty.

Cally shook her head, "no, of course not. We are still getting married, whenever Holy Family can fit us in when we are all free. Hopefully sooner than later. But…" she trailed off, gesturing for Shay to hand her the bottle. "Recall, this is the second go round for both of us, and we aren't really into big, loud events. Not to mention we are trying to buy a house, preferably not next door to a crack den. So while all your ideas are as gorgeous and fabulous as you are, we were thinking of something a little more…low key."

"Low key, huh?" Shay asked, adding another slug of liquid to her glass.

"You have actually spent time with Clarke, right?" Cailin said, tapping the screen and bringing up one of the spectacles Shay had bookmarked.

Shay looked down at it before looking down the bar where Clarke had a slight smirk of a smile on his face while the rest of the guys were guffawing and smacking each other on the back over who only knew what. She took a deep breath, looking back down at the screen. "Gotcha. I can do low-key." She paused, flipping through a couple of boards before finally flipping the cover closed, "oh, god, I think I turned into Gabby's mother."

"Only temporarily. Speaking of which, how are Gabby and Matt doing, really? Because Matt is being weird and Gabby is always too exhausted when I actually get the chance to talk to her."

"Your boy is kicking her butt, but she is loving every minute of it. Between you and me, I wasn't sure she was really going to go through with this whole Candidate thing, especially when it looked like she was going to be under the jerk Welch over at Austin. Especially since she was talking Med School not that long ago…" Shay trailed off, making a pattern in the condensation on the bar in front of her, "but things change, and she's happy, so whatever, right?"

"Uh-huh," Cally said, arching an eyebrow at her friend, feeling like there was more to it.

"God you are as bad a Clarke, I just baited that hook for you, girl!"

"I don't fish, Leslie," Cally countered. She took in Shay's pout, rolled her eyes and said, "fine, I'll play along. Is she really happy though, Shay?"

Shay smiled and clapped her hands, "oh goody!" She cleared her throat before turning serious again, "I know Matt is your oldest and dearest friend, and he is a great guy, he really is, I've known him for a while now too. Though I sometimes wonder if he is really the perfect person for Gabby. Matt is such a picket-fence, house in the suburbs, marry the soccer mom type. He and Hallie used to argue over that all the time. And I know Gabs comes from a big family and I know she seems really happy with him and he treats her well when he isn't being all Jekyll or Hyde, which one is the mean one? Anyway, I've known Gabby for as long as I have known Matt, and have spent a hell of a lot of a time in the ambo with her and whenever she talked about her future, it wasn't any of that Leave it to Beaver stuff, you know. But as I said, things change. Not to mention she's dumped me for the new paramedic on 56."

"They do," Cally replied, chewing on the inside of her lip, thinking Shay seemed to have both Gabby and Matt pegged, there was a bit of an incongruence; but there also was a strong connection between the two of them. And the last thing she was about to do was butt-in on their relationship. Both parties hadn't said a word when she was carrying on with the technically still married Jeff, in fact they had been steadfast in their support. Shay's last statement suddenly sunk in. "Wait, what do you mean Gabby dumped you? What new paramedic?"

"Some piece of fluff, transferred in from St. Louis because of guy problems," she said, rolling her eyes, "Something Brett, Sophie? Sally? Sylvie, that's it," Shay said, snapping her fingers, "I dunno, apparently she and Gabs bonded, being the only women in the house, and Gabby was happy to not have to deal with Chout anymore. Clarke didn't tell you about her?"

"Voight just released me like an hour before we got here and Jeff and I didn't really do a lot of, uh, talking," Cally admitted, her cheeks turning pink as she looked down the bar involuntarily and caught Clarke's eye. He gave her a wink and raised his pint towards her before turning back to his friends.

Shay put up her hand for a high-five, "get it girl! Just spare me the details, because Detective Hairporn stayed with us this past week, apparently her building was being fumigated. Let me tell you how much fun it was trying to get a shower in with those two around. Conserving water, my ass. But Erin is hot and keeps Kel in check, those two are cut from the same cloth, I tell you."

* * *

"That was Sergeant Platt, Detective Callahan, and she said 'to tell Detective Barbie to get down there because she isn't sending Ken up', that was the direct quote," Nadia said, hanging up the phone, looking slightly bemused.

Cailin looked up from her paperwork, furrowing her brow. "Good to know dating Mouch has mellowed her," she retorted, locking her computer. "Be right back, I hope," she called to her teammates before booking it down the stairs.

Clarke was waiting on the bench across from Platt's desk, looking as uneasy as he always did when he found himself at the 21st Precinct. Cally didn't blame him, given his experiences there. At least he seemed more or less cool with the IU team, especially Erin, probably because of Severide. He would probably never be President of Voight's fan club, but that didn't matter so much to her; she still wasn't always entirely sure how she felt about her Sergeant. "Hey, everything alright?" she asked, sliding next to him.

Clarke nodded, "yeah. Don't suppose you can take a break, huh?"

She mirrored his nod, "sure thing. Sergeant Platt, I'm taking a 7 be back in a few."

"Not your secretary, sweet cheeks, tell Jezebel upstairs."

"I'll bring you back a slice of pie from the diner," Cally said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Cherry, not apple, they changed their filling," Platt called after them.

* * *

"Sorry to bug you at work," Clarke said after they slid into a booth in the rear of the diner.

"Never a bug, babe, a treat. At least I think it is," Cally remarked, drumming her fingers nervously on the formica.

Clarke gently put his hand on top of hers to stop the tapping, keeping it there even as Dottie came over, doing a double take when she saw them. "Been a while since I've seen the two of you in here. Actually, haven't really seen much of you, Detective, they finally get you a desk over there in the precinct?"

"I, uh, moved units," Cally said, not wanting to explain everything that had gone on in the past six months.

Dottie had a look of realization come over her, "oh, yeah, the shooting. Glad to see you're still on the job, and still with this one."

"Me too," she replied, squirming slightly.

"Want your old usual?" Dottie inquired. Cally nodded. "And you handsome?"

"Same as her, half a ruben, with fries," he stressed, giving the waitress a look.

"Don't let him go, Detective, or I'll steal him for myself," Dottie replied, stopping short of patting Clarke on the cheek only when the pair both let out a soft snarl. "I'll get that right out," she said, rushing off.

They both nervously tittered at each other, Cally quipping, "good to know we've worked through our issues."

"Work in progress," Clarke shrugged, finally removing his hand from on top of hers, wrapping his hands around his glass of water. "So they finally put out the rotations for the next couple of months."

"Ah yes, the great holiday rotation bitch fest, where the entire force complains about having to work Thanksgiving or Christmas, but secretly love the double pay and not having to be around their families, I am quite familiar, go on…" she said, having lived this her entire life, well, at least all the years she spent in Chicago. In New York, she volunteered to work holidays, from her days as a student worker up through her getting her gold shield. It gave her a good excuse to not come back home for the holidays. It hadn't been different since she returned, except Belden hadn't even given her the chance to volunteer, had informed her she would be working and wouldn't be complaining about it. She hadn't really thought about how Voight would handle things, except given the turn of events since Shay's idea stuck, she supposed she should. Not to mention holidays in the future might actually start meaning something once kids were involved…

"...so the church is free, but we have to come up with our own priest to handle all the loop holes," Clarke finished, looking at Cally expectantly.

"Come again?" Cally squeaked out, realized she had just missed something major. Some detective she was.

"You, me, a church, hopefully your priest brother, us getting married," he said, gesturing between them, realizing her intense look of concentration hadn't been on him. "Black watch is working Christmas Day, but Holy Family is free the 26th. If you're still on board, that is."

She blinked a few times, the weight of what he was telling her sinking in. "Jeff Clarke, are you telling me we have a wedding date?"

"If you can convince your brother to deal with the Archdiocese."

"Cullen, not a problem. He's got one foot out the door and loves making waves," Cally replied, already pulling out her phone and texting him.

"Just as long as he keeps his one foot in until December 27th," Clarke teased with a smile as Dottie carefully set down their two plates and hustled away.


	26. This Fire

**Chapter 26: This Fire**

_Postin from the road as a reward for all my lovelies, especially those that give me great sneak peeks and those that take the time to review! Off for some fun at home!_

* * *

"Wait, so you set a date?" Erin asked as they huffed their way through a session at the gym.

"More like Clarke set the date," Cally replied, increasing the tension on her elliptical, regretting that ruben with a side of fries already since she apparently was going to need to find a wedding dress like yesterday. A spark of an idea shot through her. "So your friend, Valentina, don't suppose she can whip me up something ivory and under five figures in less than ten weeks, huh?"

"She could probably clothe a country in ten weeks, don't know about the price tag though, can't say I've actually paid," Erin said with a dimpled grin.

Cailin glowered slightly, "I am glad we are friends, because otherwise I might hate you a little right now."

"I'm sure I can get you a friends and family discount, seeing as it is your wedding dress and all." Erin paused for a moment. "Holy shit, Callahan, you are getting married!"

Her excitement was almost infectious, except it made Cally slightly uncomfortable. She fiddled with the buttons on her elliptical, "I mean, yeah, but it's no big deal, we've both been-"

"Stop, don't say it, Cal," Erin shot back, rolling her eyes.

Cailin caught the look in her friend's eyes, knowing better than to push it. She decided instead to change the subject. "So, is Voight seeing someone?"

Erin almost slipped off her treadmill. "Why do you ask?" she covered.

She shrugged, "I don't know, he's just seemed different lately, almost nice."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Erin said, an inkling planted in her mind, thinking she needed to have a little catch-up with Hank.

Cailin's phone started to buzz and flash wildly she immediately stabbed at reject. "I am busy, mother," she muttered.

"She a little excited?"

"Children on Christmas morning are less excited. But I worry if I give her an inch, she'll turn into Mama Dawson, and I cannot handle that. Breaking Shay's heart and telling her to slow her roll was enough."

Erin laughed, but it felt hollow. Her relationship with her mother was, well practically nonexistent, had been for years, and that suited her just fine most of the time. But now, with everyone coupling up, including her and Kelly, she was starting to wonder about the future, and that also meant taking a long, hard look at the past.

Cally saw the gloom pass over Erin's eyes and immediately wanted to kick herself. She felt like a brat, complaining about her mother when she knew Erin's background. She punched the stop button. "Okay, I'm a bitch. How about we ditch the workout and go drink wine instead? Valentina can always make me something stretchy, right?"

Erin feigned debating before stopping her own machine. "Yes, on the last two accounts, not on the first, except when needed."

* * *

"Hermann, what is so important that I needed to leave a meeting with a CI to come to Molly's and-oh God," Cally cut off, skidding to a stop as soon as she entered the bar. "Uh, hi Ma, what are you doing up here? In the city. At Molly's. On a weekday afternoon?" she asked, looking at Hermann with panic. The man just shrugged, turning to take stock of the beer fridge.

"Oh hello dear. I couldn't get in touch with you and that sweet girl who answers the phones at your work mentioned that all of you and your work friends come here a lot since some firefighters own it and I was up in the city for an appointment so I thought I would just pop on in. Christopher was just telling me all about his children and his lovely wife. Care to tell me why I had to find out you set a wedding date from the Archbishop's secretary after your brother had an appointment with him?"

Cally tried to process what her mother was saying and failed, giving Hermann enough of a look that he immediately poured her a drink. "Just water, Hermann."

"Set a wedding date already, drinking water? Something you and Ugly want to tell us, Callahan?"

She hitched her thumb toward where Ruzek was hovering in the doorway, "yeah, I'm still on the clock. Adam, go watch TV and don't you dare say a word about any of this."

"Take a load off and watch sports? Yeah, I'm really going to bust your-" he broke off as both Hermann and Cally loudly cleared their throats, gesturing toward Mrs. Callahan. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll just be over here."

Cally slid on a stool next to her mother and tried to ignore the pounding starting in her head. She loved her mother, dearly, but it seemed the older she got, the more attention her mother wanted to give her; as if making up for being too busy and tired when Cailin was growing up. The problem was, Cailin had already learned to take care of herself and wasn't the best at letting others in. Which is probably why she and Jeff fit so well. "It just kind of happened, Ma, I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I promise. Our friend had this crazy idea and Jeff just kind of ran with it and we needed some details worked out with the Church, so I asked Cully."

Her mother stared at her, eyebrow arched in a way that Hermann recognized from Cally's own face. He worked to hide a smirk. After the Chief's nuptials, he wanted nothing to do with any weddings until his own kids were getting married. And maybe not even then.

"Cailin Marie, I know you think you can handle everything on your own, in fact you proved that time and time again throughout the years, and I know you went away to New York and stayed so our crazy clan wouldn't be in your business; but you are still a part of this family!" Mary Margaret admonished.

Cailin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They meant well, they always meant well. "I know Ma and I love you all, dearly." The 'but' hung heavy enough in the air she was sure customers later that night would feel it.

"But this isn't about us, it's about you and your Marine," Mary Margaret said, seeing her daughter's brow knit together, she quickly corrected, "Jeff." Just as quickly she saw the look of surprise on her youngest's face. "I've married 3 sons, and a 4th has presided over countless more, I've heard all about the wedding being for the family. Your father and mine's was to be sure, but it is the start of _your_ marriage, which is most certainly not about what your old mother thinks." She gave her daughter a conspiratorial look before continuing, "you didn't think I was going to say that, did you? Don't forget I bore and raised you, girl. Just make sure I get an invite to the big day and come down to dinner at your brother's every once in a while."

Cailin wasn't entirely sure how to respond, she sat, dumbfounded for a minute, feeling herself get slightly teary as her mother gingerly slipped off the barstool and gave her a hug.

"I love you, baby girl, you know that, right?"

Cailin nodded, sniffing into her mother's shoulder, "of course, Ma, love you too."

"Good. I'll let you get back to keeping the city safe. Take care of yourself," she paused, brushing her daughter's hair back behind her shoulders, studying her carefully, thankful for the light that had finally started to creep back into her eyes. "But more importantly, let that man of yours take care of you too. It isn't weakness to be loved, Cailin."

"Well wasn't that a Hallmark moment," Ruzek started in as soon as they were back in the car.

"Bite me, Ruzek, one more word and I will tell Voight all about that romantic getaway you are planning on taking Kim on weekend after next."

"You wouldn't dare," he shot back, looking wounded.

Cailin leveled a glare at him, "you really wanna risk it, Adam?"

* * *

"What the hell is that, Callahan, I told you I didn't want to see any damn bridal magazines up here," Voight admonished the next day in the pen.

Cailin looked at him, completely confused, she had been deep in a suspect's file, trying to piece together any known associates. "Do you need your eyes checked, Voight? These are case files; I haven't bought a damn bridal magazine. In case you've forgotten, I was undercover and then I was running down this-" she broke off as Voight held the thick, glossy magazine between two fingers as though it were trash. "Damn it, Ruzek," she said, lunging next to her and swatting at him.

"Ow, ow, stop, Jesus! Voight, you really should let her down in the cages more," he replied, rubbing at his chest. "I was just having a little fun."

"Fun's over. Feel free to chuck it, sir."

"No way, he made me buy that thing," Atwater protested, "do you know how expensive those things are?"

"That's because if you tack the word 'wedding' on anything it immediately becomes expensive," Cally grumbled, getting nods of agreement from Dawson and Voight. "Now don't we all have work to be doing?"

"I think you're spending too much time with Erin, cupcake, you're starting to sound more and more like her every day," Voight said, with a chuckle; though the look on his face still told Cailin he was wary of having two women on his team.

She knew they wouldn't be partnered up anytime soon, no matter what was or wasn't going on with Halstead.

They all went back to it until a while later Atwater spoke up, "hey, this isn't actually that bad."

"What you find a skel with a rap sheet shorter than Callahan?" Antonio teased.

"For the umpteenth time I am 5'5" which is average for women, Erin isn't that much taller than I am!" Cailin protested. It was then she noticed that Atwater had taken possession of the bridal magazine and was staring intently at a page.

"Nah, I'm talking about this dress, it ain't too poufy, it's actually pretty hot," he said.

Ruzek peered over his shoulder; "I dunno looks kind of trashy to me."

"Nobody asked you," Atwater argued, "I'm just saying, most of these dresses make me think the opposite of what you are supposed to be doing on your wedding night." He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. "I bet you Dawson will agree with me. What do you think 'Tonio?" He held up the magazine so Antonio could see.

"Eh, it's okay, but not really for a wedding," Antonio replied.

Cailin forced herself to not roll her eyes, worried they might stick. She was about to say something when Voight snapped, "are we working or opening a wedding planning business?" He glared at Cailin, as if to say 'look what you did here?'

She put her hands up in the air, "hey, me and Halstead haven't said a damn thing."

"Well, I'm all out of gold stars. Now get back at it, all of you and hopefully Lindsey and Olinsky will be back with something soon."


End file.
